


Disc 1

by BornDead



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Has Issues, Explicit Sexual Content, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Music, Kairi & Riku Friendship (Kingdom Hearts), M/M, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Slow Burn, Sora Loves Riku (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas Being an Asshole (Kingdom Hearts), no gods no betas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornDead/pseuds/BornDead
Summary: Lit against the backdrop of an endless summer, Sora gets mixed up with a punk band and his life changes in ways he never could have expected. All is fair in love and mosh pits.
Relationships: Kairi/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Riku/Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 142
Kudos: 60





	1. Track 1: Jesus Christ

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so I've got a lot to learn. I did not create the lyrics used in this (or any) chapter, but they serve as a source of inspiration for the story. If you’d like to leave kudos or comments or anything, I will gladly make you a mixed tape of all your favorite songs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heartless need a new song fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Soriku Hell, this is your captain speaking 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ borndeaddd

**Kairi**

We would need a frickin miracle at this point to battle the Dream Eaters and hope to win. We’ve got attention on us now, what with V. making his big break and whatnot, but with his grand exit we’ve also lost our lyricist. We have eyes on us, and if we stumble this could be it. We still have the musical talent, but none of the powerful lyrics to push us over the edge. 

New lyrics are going to be a problem. I know fuckall about writing. Riku is still a walking storm cloud right now. Does Axel even know how to read? If it were up to Demyx, we’d just scream the entire time. They’re all useless. 

I hand over the wad of crinkled bills in my hand to the guy behind the counter and gesture a number 3 up with my fingers. I crack a grin and wink. He’s cute and blond and his fair skin shows his blush brilliantly. He turns away, digging into the ice chest as I slide into a seat next to a kid hunched over a notebook. I can hear his pencil snap as he scribbles furiously. 

“Here you are,” Mr. Blond says quickly, handing over the popsicle. The blue matches his eyes and I say so, drawing a flustered huff out of him before he reels away to greet the next person in line. Rude. 

I break the popsicle in two— it’s supposed to be shared, I guess— but I mostly break it so I can feel the satisfying release of the ice popping apart. I stick one in my mouth and the salt makes my mouth water. 

I spin around on the diner stool, a quick survey of the other patrons yielding little of interest. A few years back, the whole band and I would meet here after last-call, high on adrenaline, voices scratchy from yelling, eyeliner smeared, and recount the highlights of the evening. It’s the only place to come to after the shows have died down and all but the rowdiest of the crowd have returned home. 

The band has changed, but this place hasn’t. The familiar neon buzz of the sea-salt sign hanging on the window is comforting. It makes me feel nostalgic and sad. I don’t want to start bringing up old shit now. I don’t want to remember the old times. 

I’m dreading going back to the studio, especially now with all this sadness and longing for the past tugging at my insides. I’ve got to snap out of it. I need a distraction. 

The kid next to me is furiously erasing at his page, which draws my attention back to him. He’s thin, bad posture, with a mess of brown hair falling into his eyes. He’s got long fingers and a Mickey Mouse band-aid wrapped around one. That’ll do. 

I poke the kid’s shoulder and hold out the other side of the popsicle to him. “You sure look like you could use some ice cream.”

He snaps up and is taller than I thought. When he was writing, he seemed to collapse into himself. Even now he’s holding his elbows, like he’s embarrassed to be taking up space. 

“Excuse me?” he says, staring dumbly at my outstretched hand. 

“Come on, don’t make this awkward. Just take it.”

He reaches out with the bandaid hand and grabs the stick, bringing it slowly back toward him. “Uhm. Thank you?”

“You’re welcome. What are you working on over there?”

He shuts the notebook with a slap. His eyes are prettily lined with the kind of dark lashes girls envy and boys never notice. “I... I don’t know. I just like to write. Poems, mostly, though it makes me cringe to admit that out loud.” He brings the popsicle tentatively to his mouth and takes a lick. He must have not been expecting the flavor because he shudders.

“Sea salt— don’t you like it?”

“I... guess the color made me expect something different. Raspberry maybe.”

“I never got that— raspberries are red, what’s with all this blue raspberry stuff?”

“Ah... yeah.” He breaks eye contact quickly. 

“I’m Kairi,” I say, extending out my free hand by way of introduction. 

“Sora,” he says, barely looking up. 

“Sora... I like that name. So, Sora the Poet, can I see what you’re working on?”

“Ah, no.”

I can tell I’m wrinkling my brow. My mother says this will become a permanent scowl one day. 

“Why not?”

He shifts back in his seat. “I don’t know you.”

“Isn’t that better? I don’t know you, you don’t know me, we probably won’t ever cross paths again. Consider this payment for the ice cream.”

“But I didn’t even ask for—“

Too slow. I grab the notebook while he’s distracted and spin around. Based on the look of horror on his face, I’m expecting him to scream, but he stays there mouth gaping. This has gotta be some weird porn or something. Why else would he be so weird about it? 

I skim down through the first page, then flip to the next. I can sense him hovering just in the periphery of my vision. He reaches a hand out, palm up, urging the return of his notebook. I swivel in another direction. 

“Sora... this,” I’m flipping to the next page, fully engrossed. My fingers trail across the graphite lines. There are still eraser shavings on this page and I’m imagining what words he deemed unworthy.

“It’s crap,” he whines, “I know. You don’t have to tell me.” 

I hold up a finger to interrupt him as I take a moment to reread the page. There’s something here. I feel cogs in my brain turning. It’s good. I can feel my fingers twitching out an imaginary bass line. I can hear the words turning into lyrics in my mind. 

“No, I like it.” I catch his eyes again as I press the book to my chest emphatically. “Sora, this is beautiful.” I feel myself smiling. 

That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. I can see him deflate, as if he had prepared some rebuttal that no longer made sense. I take another look at the page. 

I have a pretty good knack for memorizing things. I always got A’s on spelling tests in school, and I can quote dozens of movies from start to finish. I have no idea how to read sheet music but I memorize the sounds chords make and I can play them back not knowing what to call them. I guess memorization makes me a pretty terrible musician, but a good poem thief. 

“Thank you.” Sora says. 

I pull out my phone to check the time. I’ve got to get out of here before Axel loses his shit. I stand up, handing the notebook back to Sora and slapping the popsicle stick into the counter. “I’ve gotta run. It was nice to meet you, Sora.” 

I run out of the shop in the direction of the studio. I’m still licking the remnants of salt off my lips as I round the corner, tapping the poem into a group chat with the rest of the guys. Even with my knack for memorization, I need to get the words written quickly so I don’t screw any of it up. 

No way they’re going to believe I wrote this, but it’s not like we have any other options at this point. We’ve got to try something. 

It doesn’t take long for the replies to start pinging in. 

* * *

**Sora**

I’m not exactly sure what to make of the past twenty minutes. It’s not that I’m antisocial, but I guess I’m not used to random girls asking to read my journals either. Or anyone, for that matter. People don’t just come up to random strangers like that. Normal people, at least. 

I feel thrown off and uncomfortable, like this is some weird prank. Any minute now I’ll see Kairi return with a gaggle of friends, pointing and laughing at me through the glow of the window. I don’t want to be here for it. 

My hands are sticky from the melting popsicle. I feel awkward and embarrassed and I just want to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. I trudge out the door. 

Streetlights are slowly turning on. The crowds from before are starting to dissipate and you can actually hear the crash of waves in the distance now. During the day it’s hard to hear them over the commute and all the people. The air is cool. Based on the smell, there is a bonfire not too far away. 

I should probably head home, but the thought of the beach sounds like a good place to forget about the red-haired girl and her pranks. I just need a reset. 

I kick off my shoes as I veer off the sidewalk and into the sand. My shoes are yellow and out-of-fashion, and not in a cool way. I can’t pull off wearing things ironically, either, so that isn’t even an excuse. I add terrible dresser to a mental list of embarrassing things about myself. Maybe I should buy some new shoes. 

The sand is warm under my toes. Salty winds tangle my hair. I know it’ll be stuck up in wild tufts later. I pull the hood of my red jacket up and tug on the drawstrings, closing the hood and obscuring my view of the waves. I wish life had drawstrings to tug on when things became too blustery. Maybe then I could block out everything and just write. A dark, quiet place to be alone. The shock of the cold waves breaking on my feet makes me shiver. 

I pop the last of the blue popsicle into my mouth, and lick the stick to prevent the juice from staining my hands any more than it already has. A dark smudge on the stick catches my eye, and I pull it closer. It’s hard to read in the dimming light, but the words are still bold enough to see. 

‘Winner’ it says. 

Yeah, right. 

* * *

**Riku**

It’s all just noise now. Static. Buzzing. A nuisance. I wish they’d all shut up. I’m agitated and want to be alone. I want to wallow in my grief and let it consume me. I want to block out the light from the windows and sleep forever. I don’t want to be here. I just don’t give a shit anymore. 

Kairi is sitting with Axel on the old threadbare couch. She’s playing a bass line while Axel tries to match with his electric guitar. It isn’t plugged in, so the notes are washed out and tinny. I see Kairi scroll through her phone again, probably trying to match up with those new lyrics. Demyx is laying on the rug at their feet, absently tapping drumsticks into the air.

“Hey are you listening?” Axel sighs. The music stops as he clamps one ring-filled hand against the strings. His eyes are tired and he has leftover makeup smudged under his eyes from the show last night. Someone needs to tell him about washing his face at night. 

“Not even a little,” I say, sliding down deeper into the chair. I pick at the fraying holes near the knee of my jeans. 

“You’ve got to get this memorized, Riku,” Axel growls. “Chill out with the brooding for one second and practice this. We think we’ve almost got it.”

It isn’t like the song is bad. It’s actually pretty good, if not a little cheesy. I’m a little too raw around the edges for singing about my feelings right now. I feel like the skin under a scab that wasn’t ready to be picked off. Sore, angry, easy to bleed. I’m not being fair to them, I know it. But V. clearly started it. He’s the one who sold out and left us behind. God, I have got to stop whining. 

I slide out my phone and go back to the group chat. They’ve went back and forth with a few changes since I last looked, but on the whole the lyrics are pretty much the same. Kairi’s got the most recent version copied and pasted at the end of the thread for easy reference. I’ve heard them figuring out the track enough that I think I’ve got the melody.

_Jesus Christ that’s a pretty face_

_the kind you’d find on someone I could save_.

I meet Kairi’s eyes for a moment and she smiles. I can tell she’s trying to reel Axel back, trying to empathize with me, but I’m making this harder than necessary. I stand up and walk back to the recording set, eyes back on the phone. 

“Can I hear what you’ve put together so far?”

Demyx jolts up and runs to twist some knobs and push some buttons. I have no idea how this equipment works. It’s been a long time since I spent any time trying to figure it out. The memory still stings when I think back to the first time I messed with the audio setup. 

> _I’m leaning over the console, trying to get a better look at at a dial in the back. I can feel him behind me. It’s like my whole body is on high alert. I think I could sense him even in the dark. He steps closer and I can feel the heat radiating off his chest. He doesn’t have to stand to close._
> 
> _“You sure know how to push a guy’s buttons, huh?” V. chuckles, leaning in. His breath tickles the back of my neck. I want to turn around and look at him, but he’s got me caged in, bent forward. He’s wearing those ridiculous fingerless gloves, the fishnet ones, and his nails are freshly coated in black paint. His hand snakes toward mine and grabs onto my wrist. Why does he keep doing this?_
> 
> _I can’t think when he’s this close. I can feel my heart caught up in my throat, gagging me. Something deep inside me starts to wake up. My pulse is racing with anticipation. I want to turn around, slam him into the wall. Devour him. We’ve been playing this game for weeks and my patience is wearing thin. I don’t even know if V. is into guys or if he just likes fucking with me. He loves attention. It probably doesn’t matter where he’s getting it from, so long as someone is groveling at his knees._
> 
> _Well, if he’s offering..._
> 
> _V. has my hair wrapped around his fist. In a jolt, he pulls me back enough so that I can see him smirk. His eyes are dark as he leans close, lips feather-light against my throat._
> 
> _“Who said you could touch my things?”_

I shake away the memory as the sound begins to play through the speakers. It’s messy, it’s imperfect, but it’s got a good flow to it. I can hear the potential. I’m humming to myself, occasionally testing out a few words, imaging how the chorus is going to flow. 

'And I will die all alone. And when I arrive, I won’t know anyone. Well, Jesus Christ, I’m alone again, so what did you do those three days you were dead?' I read.

I can feel their eyes on me the whole time as I’m pacing and planning out the song. The words are a punch to the gut. It’s hitting too close to home. Who the hell wrote this? 

The song ends and I finally meet their gazes.

“Alright. Play it again,” I command.

* * *

**Sora**

The lights in the kitchen are still on when I finally make it back home. I feel my muscles relaxing as I look in through the lace curtains. It is early enough that grandmother is probably still awake, but I still enter quietly. 

“Is that you, Sora, darling?” 

I round the corner into the sitting room and see her white hair before anything else. She’s curled up, a worn out book held comically close to her face. I don’t have to see her face to know the expression she’s making— nose wrinkled up behind her glasses, eyes squinting, brow furrowed. Her eyesight is terrible, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before that stops her from reading. At her feet, her goofy dog is sprawled out, legs akimbo, tongue lolling. 

“Hey,” I say, pulling the hood of my jacket down. “Anything exciting happening?”

She lowers the book and her blue eyes sparkle as she smiles. She loves this part. Just like the color of my eyes, I must get my love of words from her. I sit down as she excitedly explains the plot of her most recent adventure. She’s gushing about the imagery in the book, and something in my chest aches. She seems so young right now. I know it probably won’t last. I’m trying to enjoy the moment, but there is this nagging at the back of my mind reminding me that this won’t last. 

I’m nodding along, trying to follow the more nuanced points of the book as she begins to repeat herself. She’s described this character a few times already. Suddenly she stops and smiles at me again. 

“Sora, when did you get home?”

My throat constricts and my eyes burn. I knew coming to stay with her this time wasn’t going to be like before. It wasn’t going to be like my memories of vacationing here in the summer with her. No more early morning poetry competitions, no more running around outside acting out the scenes from the play we just saw, no more hours of baking. I knew taking care of her would be a lot of work. I was prepared for that. I just didn’t stop to think about how sad it would be to see all my memories replaced by moments like this. I feel so helpless. She looks so small sitting there. 

“Gran, you’re up late. Why don’t I help you get settled in your room while you tell me about your book some more?”

She nods and shifts to stand. It takes her a couple tries to get the momentum she needs, but then she’s standing tall. Her posture is still immaculate. I didn’t inherit that from her. On cue, the dog startled awake, stands, and follows her to the other room. The dog walks dutifully at her pace, pausing occasionally when she does, looking up at her expectantly. 

After she’s finished washing up and changing, I make sure she’s tucked into bed. I place a glass of water on her side table before I leave. She used to do this for me when I was younger. It’s weird being on the opposite end now. It’s like deja vu or something. She’s breathing deeply, already asleep, by the time I turn off the light. 

I’ve only been here a month, but the days are starting to blur. We do this routine each evening. Tomorrow we’ll pick it up again. She’s still safe to leave alone for now, but I’d be worried if I weren’t here checking in throughout the day. The girl I used to play with as a kid still lives next door. She stops by too, which helps. Everyone keeps reminding me that I need to take time for myself, too. Apparently it’s important for me to prioritize self-care. Whatever that means. 

When I step into the kitchen, I see today’s note from Selphie, the neighbor. Her script is neat and cute, with lots of unnecessary flourishes and curls. She likes to doodle in the margins. The note tells me about what they had for dinner, and that Gran remembered to take her medicine on her own. That’s good. 

I grab a motley assortment of food from the pantry and head up the stairs to my room. The risers are creaky, but they don’t wake Gran up anymore. 

My room hasn’t changed much. It’s still this weird combination of old woman’s guest room and 8-year-old boy’s playroom. There are posters hung too low on the floral wallpaper as evidence of my former height. There are some sun-bleached action figures on the windowsill. The books lining the shelves show the drastic evolution of my interests over time. Fairy tales were always my favorite though. That hasn’t changed. 

I toss most of the food onto my desk and then throw myself back on my bed. I toss an apple up in the air and catch it while I’m laying there. It’s still pretty early, but I haven’t really found people to hang out with yet. It’s different being here as adult. The kids I used to know have mostly left, Selphie excluded. I should probably put more effort into meeting new people, but just the thought of it is exhausting. 

The next time I toss the apple up, my sleeve slides down and I can see the angry raised scar below my wrist. I miss the catch and the apple hits the floor with a dull thud. So much for that. 

I roll over and pull my laptop out from under the bed. As I open it and log on, I shake the ugly memory of the scar away. I must have not closed the computer properly because when I’m finally in, my blog is still open, post pending. 

I don’t know why I bother with this thing. It’s not like anyone reads it. It’s nice to have a place to get my thoughts out though. I like the anonymity. Writing has got to have someone to read it, otherwise what’s the point? I’m too embarrassed to show anyone in real life. Nothing is very real on the internet. No one knows it’s me. The criticism can’t hurt me, because I’m just a screen name. Not Sora. Definitely not Sora. I copy the poem from earlier from my notebook into the computer. 

‘We’ve all got wood and nails. We sleep inside of this machine,’ I type. (When did did everything I type become so... emo?) Ugh. I’m such a cliche. 

After I finish, I decide to browse the town’s local social media hub. I think it started out as a local zine in the 90’s or something, but it evolved into this electronic local newspaper slash blogging slash writing slash message board when I was a teenager. It’s pretty niche, but it’s always got the latest scoop, and I like hearing about what’s popular on the island. I’d never know what was popular if someone didn’t spell it out for me. 

This island has a long history of famous artists who used to call this place home. A travel guidebook once called the island a “muse”. I can’t even count how many bands, painters, and photographers have said their big break happened either on, or because of, this place. I don’t understand the draw, but then again, it is nice here. I’ve kept coming back. 

I click on a section dedicated to local music. There’s a few posts promoting upcoming shows, and a thread debating the best Destiny Isle musicians of all time. I don’t know much about music, so I don’t have much of an opinion, but I’m curious what everyone else here thinks. 

There are a lot of obvious answers, Organization XIII, the Nobodies, Replica, and then some names I’ve never heard of. There is a heated argument over two bands in particular who seem to be on the cusp of making it big— the Heartless and the Dream Eaters. Why does every band have to be ‘the’ something? I shrug and read on. Seems like there is some drama surrounding the Heartless and the exodus of a former band member. Fans have strong feelings about which side they’re on and who is the cause behind the split. 

Out of curiosity, I type the band’s name into the search bar and scroll through to the first photo album that pops up. It’s an article describing a show from last year, but I can’t seem to focus on the words. I’m too distracted by the photo. Everyone in this band is beautiful. Like, it’s unfair just how beautiful they are. Did they all notice each other on some model getaway and just decide that, hey, we are so good looking that the only thing that can make us even more good looking is to become musicians? I’m transfixed by the singer in the front. He’s standing their, legs spread in a confident stance, singing into a mic. I can tell from his expression he is sublimely happy. He’s got this weird silvery hair that falls down past his bare shoulders, and a perfectly defined V leading down to his jeans. He’s beautiful. Not just handsome, but beautiful. He looks raw and dangerous and completely inaccessible. How could we both be living here in this same place? Do people like this really exist? This is photoshop, right? 

I scroll through other photos, equally transfixed, until I come upon a close up of a bassist. 

“No way,” I say, scooting closer to the screen.

There she is, the red-haired girl from before. Kairi. She’s got her hair tied back and a glitter heart painted around one eye, but it’s definitely her. She’s bent forward, bass cradled in her hands, and staring directly into the camera. My breath is momentarily caught up in my throat. What had I said to her earlier? Did I embarrass myself? I didn’t know I was talking to a celebrity. Well, almost a celebrity. Close enough. I can feel the color drain from my face as recall her flipping through my notebook. 

“Fuuuck.”


	2. Track 2: Make War to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is a song by From First to Last.  
> V is singing a song by Mat Devine.

**Riku**

The past week has been a blur. I’m spending the afternoons and evenings practicing, and the rest of the time sleeping or wishing I was asleep. The days seem really long without you, V.

Every time I switch on the radio or turn a music channel, you’re there. Each time I see you laugh in an interview is another slap to the face. It’s downright cruel. 

Does he think about me the way I think about him?

Seriously, what was this to you, V.? It wasn’t a game to me. It feels like there is some gaping wound in my chest. I keep curling into myself, trying to make the ache go away. I’m burnt out like the end of a cigarette. Smashed apart like that guitar you destroyed. I miss you as much as I love your stupid songs (which is a lot). Some of those songs were about me, weren’t they? 

> _V. is sitting cross-legged playing guitar on my floor and the morning sunshine makes a halo around his black hair. “I'm okay,” he sings, “but I went to see the doctor yesterday to tell him how my heart is goin crazy.”_
> 
> _His face is in shadow, but I can feel the weight of the stare. I’m suddenly glad his golden eyes are hidden from me. I don’t think I could sit still under that gaze. Not now. Not like this._
> 
> _I’m not really sure how to react or where to look. No one has ever sang to me. The guitar is quiet and sweet and so opposite of the persona V. shows to the world. My hear is beating so loud it feels like a drum._
> 
> _“It feels like I got hit by a train. What is happening? He said listen, you fool, you’re falling in love again.” His voice doesn’t waver a bit._
> 
> _No one has ever told me they love me before._
> 
> _I stop his singing before he can finish the whole song. There are better things for his lips to be doing._

...Weren’t they?

We’ve made solid progress with the new song. I think it’s really got a good chance at winning us the prize at the show this weekend. It feels weird to work on songs without you. Show regulars are asking if you still wrote this one. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from screaming each time they ask. 

I can’t get away from you, V.

I check the time on my phone, rotating it to see around the cracks that cause the screen to warp in a riot of pixels. I’m still early. I tug on a black shirt from a pile of clothes I only barely managed to get washed. My hair is a mess, so I pull on a cap. 

When I look in the mirror, I feel like I can see through myself, skin and bones transparent and flimsy. There is still a picture of me and V. stuck on the corner of the mirror. He’s laughing, eyes closed, head back, and I’m smiling, eyes trained on his face. The picture used to seem really happy, but now it just looks sad. Pathetic. I pull the picture down, wanting to tear it to shreds, but my fingers pause. I let go and it flutters to the ground. I kick it under the bed. Out of sight out of mind. (Sure). 

As I’m locking up and heading down the stairs to the street, my headphones storm to life. I need something loud right now. If the music is loud enough, I can’t concentrate on anything else. Angry music, Kairi calls it. Whatever. I am angry. 

There is a shit coffee shop on the way to the studio, and I stop to grab the strongest, sweetest thing I can find. It’s overpriced and too hot, and when I bite down, I can feel the crunch of undissolved sugar crystals. The only thing I don’t like black is coffee. I’m a bitch that way. Sweet tooth? Sweet teeth. 

As the next song comes on over my headphones I feel the vice on my heart starting to loosen. The song is upbeat and fast and I can’t help nodding along. I’m not exactly sure what the song is about but its nonsensical enough that it doesn’t remind me of boyfriends or kisses or broken promises. 

I’m so wrapped up in the song that I turn around and bump into someone, almost spilling hot coffee down their shirt. 

“Shit, man, I’m sorry,” I blurt out. 

The person looks up tentatively, apologetically, as if he were the one about to scald ME with hot fucking coffee. When I meet his eyes the vice snaps shut and I feel the color draining from my face. Oh, no. 

It’s not you. I’m not crazy. It’s not you. Twilight eyes, not the sun. The hair is all wrong, you don’t have freckles, and you’re not that short, but the resemblance is enough to take my breath away. Here is a full color photographic reproduction of the black and white still life of you in my mind. 

“S’fine, no problem,” he says quietly. 

I’m standing too close. It’s hard to get my body to reel back. This is awkward. It’s just so fucking uncanny. Part of me wants to cry and part wants to scream. 

“I’ve, uh, got to run. Sorry again,” I say backing up. I take one more close look at him. Definitely not you, but eerily close. He’s like the sun-kissed, sleep deprived version of you, or maybe you’re the shadowy negative of him. 

As I’m leaving, sugar crystals grinding in my molars, I hear the barista call out his name with an order. 

Sora. 

* * *

**Kairi**

I’ve got to admit that I feel a little bad about the whole song thing. It’s not like I’m trying to take credit. I never actually said I wrote anything, and I’m sure no one would believe me even if I said so. The song is catching on more than I thought it would, so I’m feeling guilty. I’m afraid Sora is going to catch on and sue us or something. Or yell at me. 

What are the odds though? He didn’t even know who I am. I’m not conceited, but the island isn’t really that big and I’m pretty easy to spot. Axel and I don’t dye our hair this color to be ignorable. 

I’m sitting on a bench outside the studio, stretching my legs out in the sunshine. I’ll probably burn, but it feels nice so I don’t overthink it. We’ve got a few more days left before the competition, but at this point I think we are practicing more out of habit than necessity. When I look up next, I see Riku, coffee in hand. 

“Whoa, buddy. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I say. 

“Not a ghost,” he grumbles, “probably a demon or something.”

I snicker. Riku likes to act touch but I’ve known him long enough to see through it. He’s pretty sensitive. It took him a long time to get over his shyness enough to sing. He loves music enough that he forgets about himself when he’s singing though. 

He sits down and I reach for the coffee. I know before tasting it, it’s going to be sweet enough to make my mouth hurt. 

“Riku, seriously, how? Why? Why do you do this to coffee? What did this poor coffee do to you?”

He shrugs, taking the cup back. He’s still looking rattled, but I don’t think I should press. This whole thing with V. has really gotten him screwed up. I hope winning this contest will snap him out of this funk. That’s the whole reason I had to steal the poem. He needs a new song, something V. didn’t write. Something that isn’t written ABOUT V.

His mouth is pressed into a stern line. I miss seeing Riku laugh. 

I’m pretty sure I fell in love with Riku the first time I heard him laugh— really laugh. Not those polite chuckles, but a full-blown guffaw. I don’t even remember what was so funny, but he was so happy that I just couldn’t help it. 

That was a long time ago though. Many awkward conversations, unrequited flirting, and one very terrible kiss later and I can safely say I’m no longer pining over Riku. I definitely love him, but not the same way. 

> _We are eighteen and about to graduate high school._
> 
> _“Kairi,” Riku says, stepping back and turning away. We are on the roof of my house, watching some firework festival and all I want is for him to kiss me. “I’ve got to tell you something, but I’m scared of what you’ll say.”_
> 
> _I’m instantly on high alert. Is this it? A big love declaration? But he looks so scared. His hands are shaking and he won’t look at me. In the background I hear another boom as a firework explodes. The sparks make a sizzling sound as they disappear into the night._
> 
> _“Promise you won’t leave? You’re my best friend.”_
> 
> _Ah, friend. I shove that disappointment down to deal with later. He sounds so serious though._
> 
> _For a moment, the night is quiet._
> 
> _“I’m gay. I mean, I think so.” He looks at me, green eyes wide and wild, and everything sort of clicks into place. It makes sense. I feel the muscles in my back relax as I grab his hand._
> 
> _“That’s it?” The overwhelming boom of the finale is loud enough that it drowns out my nervous giggling. Riku is so pale that he is reflecting the glowing greens, reds, blues, and golds of the explosions in the sky._
> 
> _When the fireworks finally stop, he asks, “Are you surprised?”_
> 
> _“Yes. Well, no. I guess not really. Now that you say it, it makes a lot of sense.” There are neighbors outside cheering and children running with sparklers. My sisters are in the front lawn and their laughter carries up to us. I take a deep breath of the summer air. It smells like smoke and honeysuckle and salt and home._
> 
> _“If I could pick anyone to be in love with, I’d pick you, Kairi. I want you to know that. I love you, just not... I’m not in love with you, you know what I mean?”_
> 
> _That sort of breaks my heart._
> 
> _“Don’t ever change, Riku.” I squeeze his hand and after a moment of hesitation he squeezes back._
> 
> _“Is this going to change everything now?” He asks. His eyebrows pull together, a worried expression screwing up his pretty face._
> 
> _“Well,” I start, pausing for a moment, tapping a finger to my lips. “We are definitely going to have to start calling dibs now. We can’t be fighting over the same boys, alright? Promise?” I wink._
> 
> _When he laughs, he closes his eyes and I can see the tears he’s been holding back. I hope they’re tears of relief._
> 
> _“I promise,” he says, kissing my cheek. The wetness of his eyelashes tickles. It’s a much better kiss than the last thing we tried._
> 
> _I thought I had my heart set on having Riku romantically but this is better. This seems more permanent, I think. He’s my best friend. He’s stuck with me now, come hell or high water. He promised._

“I saw someone who looked just like him,” Riku says. It snaps me out of my silence.

“Huh? Who do you mean?”

Riku slumps forward and his head nearly touches his knees. “I ran into this guy while I was grabbing coffee and he looked so much like V. that I almost... I don’t even know. It was weird. I kind of freaked out.”

Hm. Not sure how to respond to that. 

“It just took me by surprise. It’s so hard to get over him when he’s literally everywhere I turn,” he continues. “I wish I could just block it out for a while.”

I give his hand a squeeze. “Think if we play loud enough we can block him out?”

Riku smirks, but still no laugh. “We’re going to have to be real loud, Kai.”

* * *

**Sora**

He looked familiar but I can’t place him. 

“Sora,” the barista calls out. I toss some coins into the tip jar and grab my tea. I take a moment to inhale the deep scent of the drink and swirl the contents. I didn’t sleep very well and I need the caffeine.

I notice a flyer for the battle of the bands that was mentioned online on my way out. Maybe I should go? It’ll probably be weird to go alone though. Maybe Selphie would go. What kind of music does she like? 

The guy who almost burned me to a crisp has high-tailed it out of view by the time I’m outside. I’m a little disappointed for some reason. 

***

There is a place on the outskirts of town (that I aptly decided to call the “Secret Place”) where I used to go play when I was old enough to roam on my own. It’s this little cave obscured by tropical vines and a mess of flowers. I don’t remember how I found it originally, but I remember covering the walls in chalk drawings and (probably really bad) poems. I doubt any of it is still there, but I’m excited to see either way. I haven’t been there in more than 5 years at this point. 

I cut through the town, feeling the tea wake my brain and warm my throat. It isn’t very windy today, so its already getting warm. It’ll be scorching by the time noon rolls around. The heat distorts the air above the road. I can feel a bead of sweat roll down the back of my neck. I’m suddenly regretting not getting an iced tea. 

The further out I get, the more the buildings begin to thin and spread. Shops and restaurants are replaced by the sprawling lawns of the original islanders. This part of town is old, and it shows. The road turns from asphalt to dirt and the sound of cars fades to the hum of cicadas. There are random chickens and roosters in the road, completely unfazed by my presence. It feels like I’m in a completely different place. Rural and untouched by the speed of everyday life. When I take a deep breath, the air even tastes different. Cleaner?

I exit the road, hopping down a series of small hills, kicking rocks and other debris out of the way as I go. The grass is overgrown here and I absently think about how I should have brought some bug spray. 

I know I’m close when I can hear the faint bubbling of the little waterfall that cascades down one side of the cave. When I push through the last of the tall grass, I can see the waterfall (if it even deserves to be called that). It’s more of a trickle of water than a torrent. The grass turns into a beach of black pebbles and they make a satisfying clicking and crunching sound as I walk toward the mass of vines ahead. As I brush the green curtain back, I notice a backpack thrown in the entrance. Not so secret anymore, I guess.

“Hello?” I call out.

I step inside and my eyes need a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. The only source of light is a hole at the top of the cave. The hole provides a small beam of sunlight that shoots down in the middle of the room like a glowing pillar. There is someone on the opposite side, but my eyes are still adjusting so I can only make out the outline. 

“Hello,” a feminine voice responds. “I am sorry, am I in your way?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” I say. 

The girl stands and walks through the sunlight so I can see better. She’s holding a notebook to her chest. The pale color matches her yellow hair. She is so pale that I can’t imagine shes from the area. 

“I’m Namine.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Sora. What are you doing down here?” I pause, worried it sounded more accusatory than I meant it to be. “I mean, I wasn’t sure anyone else knew about this place.”

She laughs, gesturing to her notebook. “I like to come here to think. I am having a bit of an art block. I thought a change of scenery might inspire me.” She opens the book, fanning through pages of illustrations. I think I can make out the edges of castles, landscapes, and maybe part of a face, but its over so quickly that I’m only left with the vague impression of pictures.

“I guess we’re the same,” I say. Eyes adjusted, I take in the room. Most of my chalk scribbles are faded, washed away by rain or time, but there are still markings hidden in more enclosed areas of the wall. I point to a rather crude drawing of a whale. “That’s about as artistic as I get though.”

I must have said something she liked. Her eyes are wide as she smiles. “You are the mysterious artist!” She laughs and steps back to look me up and down. 

“I... didn’t know it was much of a mystery. Am I everything you thought I’d be?”

She pauses and drums her fingers on the notebook. “Honestly, I am not sure who I was expecting. They have been here such a long time that I think I forgot a person actually had to do them. The first time I came here the whole place was covered! I always liked to try to find new pieces. Oh, but I guess you have stopped. I have seen nothing new in a while.”

I shrug. “It’s pretty embarrassing. I used to play here in the summer when I visited. I stopped coming as I got older, but now that I’m back in town I thought I’d give the place a visit. It hasn’t changed much.” I nod toward her, “Present company excluded.”

“Do you mind if I stay here to draw?”

“Of course not,” I say. “I can go.”

“Why don’t we share?” 

I hesitate. Maybe it’ll be nice to not be alone all day. She smiles and retreats to her spot on the opposite side of the skylight. She must be planning on staying a while because shes got a blanket spread over the floor, bottles of water, and boxes of art supplies. 

I decide to take a closer look at what remains on the walls. It’s mostly the oldest drawings and poems that have survived. They’re closer to the ground, shielded from the elements from rocks jutting out of the walls. The poems here are nonsensical, childish, and rhyme. I notice a few illustrations accompanying them that I don’t remember doing. 

“I am sorry. I suppose I collaborated without your consent,” Namine says. 

“I like it,” I laugh, tracing a sketch of a shooting star. “It’s like a picture book now. Consider consent given retroactively.” When I look back at Namine she is still smiling, hands resting on her now open sketchbook. There are faint lines on the page, but its too far away to see what shes drawing. 

We spend most of the afternoon in companionable silence that is occasionally broken up by stories of past adventures on the island. She doesn’t ask about why I’m home or why I stopped coming and I don’t bring it up. She tells me about her sisters, her friends, and how she’s embarrassed that she has never left the island. I tell her about what books I’ve been reading and about my grandmother. 

***

The light in the cave shifts, and the golden color is now a deep orange. I lost track of time. Namine begins packing up her things and looks up at the dimming skylight. “I should walk home before it gets too dark.”

“Ah, me too. Want to walk together?”

She pauses. I am technically a strange man she has never met before. Maybe I shouldn’t have offered. 

“Yes. We should get going.” She maneuvers her blanket and supplies into her backpack at the cave entrance and waits for me while I stretch, working out the knots from sitting on a cave floor all day.

“My twin sister has a big show coming up. She is very talented,” Namine says. “She plays guitar. We both went to lessons growing up, but I never got the hang of it. I gave up and took up drawing instead.”

I look at her walking by my side. This is probably the closest we’ve been all day, so I can study her features a bit closer. 

“You might have heard of the band shes in, actually,” Namine says. “It is pretty popular around here. The Heartless?”

I stop in my tracks. No way. “Your twin is that red haired girl in the band?”

“Ah, you do know them!”

I can see the resemblance now. Same eyes, same nose. Very different hair. 

“I actually ran into your sister the other day,” I say as the road turns back into asphalt. “I didn’t know who she was. Also, I’ve got to admit I’ve never actually listened to her band. I saw her picture on a blog about one of their shows the other night though.”

“They have a show this weekend.”

“I think I saw a flyer about it. I was maybe going to go, but I thought it might feel weird going alone.” I take a glance in her direction. I hope that didn’t sound like a passive date invitation. Not that I’d mind.

“I will be there,” Namine says energetically. “We can meet up and watch together!”

“That would be fun.”

“Give me your phone number and we can find a place to meet up. Do not worry about tickets— twin perk!” She places her phone in my hand and I type in my contact information. When she gets the phone back, she surprises me by taking a photograph. “I cannot stand having no contact photos.”

“You could have warned me,” I groan. There is no way that came out well.

She shows me the photo. It’s bad. Blurry, dark, and my mouth is open in protest. She laughs and scrolls through her other contacts. They’re all the same candid, terrible quality. “I like to collect surprising moments.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “Why not?” 

When we reach Main Street, she stops, jerking her head to the left. “I am this way. I will text you about this weekend,” she says. 

“It was nice meeting you,” I say. “See you this weekend.”

***

When I get home, I’m surprised to already see a text from Namine. 

> **1 New Text from Namine**
> 
> _**I wanted to make sure you had my contact info too. Here, I have even included a terrible photo of myself so you can start your own collection of unflattering moments. :)** _

I smile and toss the phone on the bed. I didn’t get any writing done at the Secret Place (gotta call it something else now) but I’ve got a few new ideas I want to get down before I forget. 

* * *

**Namine**

I live with my younger sister, Xion. I love my twin, but our lifestyles are not compatible. Kairi is chaotic and messy. My cabinets are alphabetized and I cannot remember the last time I yelled about anything. Xion falls somewhere in the middle of these extremes. 

When I get home, she is in the kitchen pulling something out of the oven. It smells burnt. The air is hazy. 

“Hey,” I say, putting down my bag. “What have you got there?” 

She blows a strand of her dark hair out of her face and puts her hands on her hips defiantly. “It was SUPPOSED to be coconut meringues.”

She’s going through a phase where she’s hyper-fixated on finding a hobby. “I want to be as good as you are with drawing, or Kairi with music. I want to be good at something. I’m not good at anything,” she told me a few months ago. I guess baking isn’t going to be her thing either. 

She walks to the trash bin and attempts to scrape the burnt confections into the bag but they’re glued to the metal, which draws a frustrated grunt from her. It will be annoying to clean. She sets the pan down on the stove and leans against the fridge, eyeing me. 

“Where were you all day?”

I sit down at the counter. “Drawing. You will never guess who I discovered today.”

“Discovered?”

“Yes, do you remember that little cave on the old part of the island where we used to go play?”

Xion snorted. “You mean the place you used to go to make out with... what was his name?”

I try my best to approximate the withering look our mother perfected. 

“Who?”

I pull out my phone, showing her the picture of Sora. “The kid who drew all over the walls! His name is Sora. He showed up out of nowhere.”

Xion squints at the picture before I pull it back and take a picture of myself. Xion rolls her eyes. I glance at the picture. It’s blurry and overexposed. My hair blends into the brightness of the kitchen. Fair is fair though. 

I send Sora a text, spontaneous selfie included. He responds a few minutes later. 

> **1 New Text from Sora**
> 
> _**Ha. Thanks, I’ll be sure to absolutely never do that.** _

Xion turns on the TV, leaving her pan on the stove, which forces me to my feet. I cannot handle leaving a mess. 

In the background I can hear some TV personality talking about a premiere. 

“Oh, man! Isn’t that Riku’s boyfriend?” Xion turns around, her voice scandalous. My eyes flicker up just as the screen fades to the beginning of some music video. I drop the pan into the sink and dry my hands on a towel as I walk over. 

And there he is— decked out in his standard ridiculous black clothes. He called it glam rock or something, and I guess part of me wants to think it looks cool. I just cannot get past the person wearing it. He looks like something out of a gothic comic book or the prince in a twisted fairy tale. 

I never liked Vanitas. I am not very close to Riku, but I feel protective of him in a sisterly way. 

“This song is everywhere on the radio right now,” Xion continues, turning back to the screen. “I can’t believe we know a famous person!”

Ugh. “Xion, he is an asshole. He screwed over Kairi and the rest of their band.”

Xion pulls her knees up on the couch and considers Vanitas on the screen. He’s stomping around angrily. Of course he has a stupid cape. Stupid vampire m-wannabe jerk. “Yeah, but, well... he was pretty much the main draw for the crowds, wasn’t he?” she says. 

I don’t like how she is taking his side. “The rest of Heartless is equally as good. Vanitas is just... dramatic.”

The music transitions into something heavier and now Vanitas is smashing everything in a room of mirrors. He looks into the camera as it pans in for a closeup, singing, “All I see is love gore. All I see is love gore.”

“Dramatic is an understatement.”

“I’ll make war to you,” Vanitas croons. His eyes are liquid gold. It feels like he can see me through the glass. 

I turn off the TV, silencing the noise. 


	3. Track 3: Smile in Your Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sora and Namine attend a concert and things go off the tracks rather quickly.

**Riku**

I’m always nervous before a show. It’s a good kind of anticipation. The air feels different, ready for movement, like the feeling in the wind as a storm is blowing in. 

We’re going on last, so that means we’ve got time to kill backstage for now. I know there are more talent scouts coming tonight, no doubt to gawk at what V. left behind. Last I looked, the bar was already crowded and loud enough that you could barely hear the music playing over the speakers. Good sign. 

Axel is helping Kairi paint a broken heart across her eye. It has become a logo of sorts. She’s always got some variation of it painted on at live shows. I think it’s cute. She thinks it’s edgy. Axel thinks it’s dumb. I never know what Demyx thinks. 

I decide to review the set list again. We decided to end the show with the new song. It’s risky, but if we can nail that there is no way the scouts are going to pass the rest of us over. We don’t need V. to make it. I’m going to prove it. 

* * *

**Kairi**

The way Axel furrows his brow in focus is pretty cute. I keep letting him paint my makeup on because I think he likes touching me. I like the feeling of his cold fingertips brushing across my skin. 

* * *

**Axel**

Why does Kairi make me do this shit? I’m no good at it. This is so stupid. 

Shit. I get the paint into her eye. 

Kairi pulls my hair.

* * *

**Sora  
  
**

Namine and I decide to meet outside of the bar, 7th Heaven, a few minutes before the show begins. She assured me that we didn’t need to be early thanks to another “twin-perk”. 

When I arrive, she’s already there. She’s got her hair pulled to one side over a denim jacket and strappy blue dress. I haven’t been to a ton of live concerts to know otherwise, but her outfit doesn’t fit in the mental picture of show-goers I had conjured in my head. 

She raises her hand as I get closer. “Over here, Sora.”

I walk over to her, now self-conscious about my choice of casual clothing. I really should have bought some new shoes. 

“Hey,” I say, slipping off my jacket’s hood. I ruffle my hair, hoping it looks the right amount of disheveled and not just ungroomed. 

She grabs my arm and leads me inside the bar, flashing two tickets at the door guard. “I am so excited. It is going to be a good show. Kairi is getting ready in the back. She will be so surprised to see you!”

“Namine, I told you we hardly spoke. She won’t even remember me.” 

She hushes me and hugs my arm. Surprisingly, she doesn’t let go. Still linked, she points to an area further ahead where the floor breaks into different levels. The soles of my shoes are already sticky from spilled beer as we walk over. The middle section is roped off, with two small tables sporting RESERVED tents.

She slips the ticket from earlier around her neck and then tells me to do the same. All adjusted and properly identified, we duck under the ropes. This area offers an unobstructed view of the stage, an impressive feat considering the volume of bodies packed all around us. Namine latches on to my arm again, and when I look down at her, she just shrugs and smiles. 

Just as the first band is walking out and the lights go out, another man with a darkly suited entourage removes the ropes and enters. The man’s hair is slicked back and silver and I can tell from a distance that his watch is worth more than my car. The group settles to the other table on the far side of the enclosure and an employee immediately appears to take their drink orders. 

Namine looks over my shoulder at the group, a peculiar look in her eyes. 

The roar of the first band’s guitars comes to life and I forget about anything else.

* * *

**Riku**

It’s almost time for us to go on. 

The Dream Eaters did well, I have to admit. They’ve added a lot of movement to their set and apparently some minor pyrotechnics, judging by the burnt smell. 

We are just waiting for the lights to dim and for the stagehand to give us a cue to go out. I feel butterflies in my stomach, and take a few small jumps to loosen up. 

A hand drops and the rest of the band begins their walk on stage. This crowd is loud. We made sure to advertise the fuck out of this one. We want the big wigs to take notice of the kind of crowd we can bring even without V. 

Kairi is the last to go out before me. She must do something extra once she’s in front of the curtain because the crowd whistles and laughs. 

I’m officially the last one out now. It used to be Vanitas, but, well...

I can hear the pulse of the first song begin. They’re playing it slower, more drawn out, so I can make the grand entrance. I hate this part. 

When I get to the mic it’ll be worth it though. 

I round the corner, making sure to shield my eyes for a moment so that I’m not blinded by the overhead lighting. (I’m not making that mistake again). As I walk to the mic stand, the crowd is screaming and pressing together tightly, surging forward to try to get as close to the stage as possible. 

They will all know this song, so it’s a good one to start with. All things considered, it’s probably also a big ‘fuck you’ to V., too. It’s about him, after all. 

My voice is clear. “When I’m lying in your bed playing motions through my head, you know that I’m thinking. I’m thinking that I have reasons to believe that I’m not the only one you spend this time with,” I start.

I scan the crowd. It shouldn’t be too hard to find the scouts. Not like they’re inconspicuous. I pass over the masses until I spot Namine in the VIP section. She’s holding onto to the arm of...

I meet his eyes for the second time. 

“But I’ll stay,” I force out. 

Sora looks down to Namine as she says something, and then back up at me. Shadows veil his face and for a moment the darkness makes it look like I’m looking directly at V. again. 

I feel heat in my stomach, anger boiling up, up, up. Something inside twists and I shout the lyrics. Let me go, I beg internally. I don’t want to love you anymore. 

This time I’m singing to you, Vanitas. 

* * *

**Sora**

The hair on the back of my neck tingles as I recognize the man on stage. I knew he had seemed familiar when we ran into each other earlier, but it hadn’t clicked until just now. 

I realize that Namine has been speaking to me over the roar of the crowd, but I’m not sure what she’s been saying. I try to focus on her words instead of the buzzing in my ears. She tells me the lead singer is named Riku.

It feels like he’s staring me down from the stage. He’s probably looking at someone else, or maybe Namine, attached to my arm, but it feels like he’s singing directly at me. Panic wells up. I need to hide. 

This is not a happy song. 

It’s hard to keep eye contact, even from this far away, so I let my eyes roam elsewhere. Riku is wearing pants that look practically painted on and a billowing black top that looks like it belongs on a romance novel cover, especially with his long hair spilling around his face. There are dark marks—a motley assortment of tattoos— spiraling up his chest. I think I suddenly understand why the crowd is heavily-skewed female. The thought gives me pause. 

Namine can’t contain herself and releases my arm to start jumping. She’s clapping and yelling with the rest of the audience. At one point I notice Kairi on stage drop a hand from her bass and flash her fingers in a peace shape around her eye. Namine mirrors her at my side. It must be some kind of signal. 

To my right, the dark group leans forward at attention. Watch Guy is tapping something into his phone. 

As the song is ending, I dare myself to look back at Riku. 

“I deserve better than this,” he shouts directly toward me. I feel my heart catch in my throat. 

Am I blushing?

Whoa. 

* * *

**Kairi**

We are killing it. The crowd is alive tonight, dancing and singing. 

I spot Namine in the back and signal to her that I’ve spotted her. She’s cuddled up to a kid in a red jacket. I finally remember she said she was bringing someone tonight. My eyes slide to the man she’s holding onto. 

Shit. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

* * *

**Riku**

I’m so distracted by Vanitas— Sora?— that the rest of the songs rush by. The lights go out one last time and then flare to life. 

“This is a new song,” I announce, walking away from the mic, toward the back. I make sure to take my time as I retreat. I make sure to roll my hips. That elicits whistles. 

Theatrics. V. made sure to impress the importance of that on me, if nothing else. 

Axel begins to play his guitar as delicately as I’ve ever heard it. He’s concentrating so much he doesn’t even notice someone screaming out his name. He usually would kill for that sort of attention. 

I walk with conviction back to the mic and grab hold. “Jesus Christ, that’s a pretty face.” 

I can’t help but look at him again. 

* * *

**Sora**

Wait...

* * *

**Riku**

“Do you believe you're missing out? That everything good is happening somewhere else? With nobody in your bed the night's hard to get through.”

* * *

**Sora**

What?!

* * *

**Riku**

“And I will die all alone. And when I arrive, I won't know anyone,” I force out. 

My voice is raw. Despite the crush of bodies, I can only focus on Sora. It feels... intimate. 

* * *

**Sora**

“T-That’s,” I stutter, not taking my eyes of Riku, “mine. Namine, that’s mine!”

Her eyes flash back and forth from the stage to me. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly I’m indignant. I’m sure my face is red. How is this even possible? “Namine, I wrote this.”

“What?” she laughs while playfully poking at my shoulder. 

“I’m serious! This is a poem I was writing a few days ago. What are they doing singing it?” I’m afraid the tone of my voice is verging on hysteria now. “How do they have this?”

She must sense my panic. Namine’s eye widen, but her look remains skeptical. Her eyes dart across the stage at Kairi, who is very engrossed in her strings. 

“They stole this!” I shout. 

Namine presses a hand onto my shoulder and tries to shush me. “Calm down. I’m sure it is a misunderstanding or something, Sora.” 

I don’t miss the glare she shoots toward her twin.

“Then how do I know all the words?” I counter.

She looks over my shoulder, back to the men in suits. “Let’s talk to Kairi about this after the show, okay? There must be an explanation.” 

My mouth is open in disbelief. I disentangle Namine’s arm from mine. I shove my hands into the pocket of my jacket angrily. 

Riku sings the words I wrote in private, “I know you think that I’m someone you can trust, but I’m scared I’ll get scared.”

No mistake, he’s looking at me. 

When I glare at him, I notice him pull away from the mic, surprised. 

I glower at him for the remainder of the show. 

***

It feels like it takes forever, but eventually the herd thins out enough that we can leave the roped off area. I’m pulsing with energy, hands shaking. I can’t tell if I’m more mortified, angry, or confused. Namine has to practically keep me leashed to her. 

The Watch Guy is already speaking with the band when we finally reach them. I’m not sure how he got to them before us. I can see the sweat glistening off Riku’s face as he smiles and takes a card from Watch Guy. 

Kairi meets my eye and I can’t help but blurt out, “Hey, y-you stole that song!” I jab a finger in her direction.

“What’s this?” Watch Guy asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Nothing! Sorry, Ansem, it’s nothing!” she adds quickly. 

Kairi runs straight at me. Her tight smile belies her murderous intent. 

As if reading Kairi’s mind, Namine spins me around, pulling me toward a walnut door. Before I can protest, Kairi is on the other side. Her fingers bruise my arm with her grip. 

The two force me through the door. I don’t put up a fight. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Kairi whispers. Her voice is high, panicked. 

Inside what I can only assume is the dressing room, Kairi shoves me toward a couch while Namine cards her fingers through her hair. She’s blocking the exit with her body, so I settle in. 

* * *

**Kairi**

So then... pretty much worst case scenario for tonight. 

I see my sister approaching, Sora in tow, from behind the Darkness Records’ manager, Ansem, and shoot her a look. Her twin sense must be tingling because she holds on tighter to Sora and digs in her heels.

“Hey, y-you stole that song!” he shouts, waving a finger around. 

Ansem raises one of his elegant brows, his face clouding over with some emotion I can’t read. “What’s this?” Ansem asks. 

Next to me, Riku is frozen, mouth agape. I’ve got to act quickly before Sora ruins everything. I mutter a quick apology and bolt toward him. We are so close! I can’t let him ruin this for us! 

As I draw closer, Namine pivots and helps me usher Sora toward the dressing room. When we breach the door, I shove him toward the couch. 

I shouldn’t have done that. What if he, like, tries to get me arrested? My thoughts fly through my head like a card deck being shuffled. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” My voice comes out much higher than I anticipated. Sora falls back, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Wait a minute here, what is going on?” he demands. “That last song out there... you didn’t write that, I did!”

I cross my arms. “Well aren’t you so humble all of a sudden? What happened to it being embarrassing?”

He pulls at his brown hair and shouts, “it still is embarrassing! That’s why I’m freaking out!”

Okay. I’ve got to switch tactics. I try to relax my posture and hold out my hands to him, pleading. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You’re right. Just stop shouting!”

His eyes dart past my shoulder to Namine. She must give him a look, because it stops him. 

“Kairi,” I hear her say behind me. Namine is always calm, but the slow way she says my name tells me she is not happy. She’s going to really let me have it for this one. “What is going on?” she asks. 

Sora crosses his arms and settles back into his seat. I can hear my blood rushing in my ears. Caught red handed. 

“Alright, I stole your dumb poem!” I whisper harshly. “Ugh, it’s not dumb, I didn’t mean that...That’s why I took it in the first place.” I try to calm myself down again. “I thought it was really good, so I copied it down.”

“Why?”

“Because... I’m desperate? We needed a new song for tonight. That guy,” I gesture toward the door, “out there is interested in signing our band to his label. But we’ve been in a bit of a... rough patch.”

Sora waivers. “But it’s my poem.”

I smile. “It was. And now it’s a song. I’m not trying to take credit for it— you can have all the credit for the lyrics, just let us keep performing it.”

“Take credit for writing a song?”

“You literally just yelled that you wrote it.” I remind him. I try to keep my tone from turning sour. 

“This is... it’s different. Those were personal feelings and you just... sang it out to a room full of strangers.”

“But didn’t you see the crowd? Didn’t you hear the music? Sora, you can’t just keep this to yourself now that it’s out there. It would be selfish.” Maybe guilt will work better on him. 

He sits there for a long moment. I really don’t want him to get me in trouble. This is the last thing I need right now. 

“You don’t have to decide right now,” I plead. “Let’s just talk it over and you can take some time to think about it.” 

The bastard stays quiet. 

“You’ll have all the credit for the song, I promise. We can cut you in.” Probably should have checked with rest of the band about that. Yet another thing that’s going to bite me in the ass. “You can write under a pseudonym if you don’t want your name on there. Reap the rewards, no strings attached.”

He’s finally opening his mouth to say something when I hear the door open behind me. I turn to see Riku rush in. His eyes are lit up, and I can tell he’s itching to tell me something. 

“What-“

“We got it,” he interrupts. He’s breathing hard, excited. He walks toward me, crushing me in a hug. I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze. 

Holy shit. It worked. 

I try to balance the elation of getting through to the record company with the trepidation knowing that Sora could turn ruin everything at any moment. Between Vanitas’s whole thing and then ripping off lyrics from a nobody, we aren’t in a great bargaining position. No record company is going to mess with a band with that much drama right off the bat. We are already on thin ice. 

I feel Riku relax and pull back. His voice is quiet as he asks, “Why is he here?”

I look up at Riku and notice he’s looking kind of pale. 

“You’re from the coffee shop,” he says to Sora. 

“Guess so,” Sora says. He clears his throat and his voice comes out louder, “You’re from the band that stole my writing.”

Riku raises a brow and looks down at me. We separate and he crosses his arms. (Come on, Riku, I don’t need you teaming up with Namine now.) My stomach is starting to hurt. 

“Kairi, is that true?”

Gotta try to spin this. “I didn’t steal it, per say...” I look at Sora pointedly. “Sora is going to be helping us write from here on. Aren’t you Sora?”

He hesitates. “I haven’t agreed to that.”

My face is burning. I’m about to argue again but Demyx and Axel burst in, laughing and shouting. Namine has to jump out of the way to avoid being smacked by the door. 

“Come on,” Demyx says excitedly, “we have to celebrate. Let’s go back to your place and have a real party!”

Axel is in a good mood. He’s got Demyx locked into a headlock and is affectionately messing up his hair. “If there is ever a time to celebrate, it is now,” he says, as Demyx breaks free. 

Riku is still glaring at me. 

Axel and Demyx finally read the room and their laugher dies down. “What’s going on? Who is this?”

“Yeah, Kairi,” Riku says slowly, “what’s going on?”

“Stop ganging up on me!” I whine. I look at Sora and he is biting at his lip anxiously. He’s still looking at Riku. “This is my friend, Sora. He’s here to celebrate with us,” I tell Axel and Demyx.

That’s enough for Demyx at least. “Oh, hey man. Let’s go, Riku,” Demyx says. He’s already rushing out the door. 

Axel shrugs and follows him out. Riku takes another long look at Sora, then at me, and follows. 

Namine approaches me and places a hand on my elbow lightly, “Hey...”

I swat her away. “Don’t. Just don’t.” I’ve got my eyes trained on Sora, who is beginning to stand. “Sora, please? Come over to our place. Come meet us first and then decide.”

He looks conflicted. I’m not sure how he is going to answer, but am relieved as he sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets and says, “Alright, I’ll come.”

* * *

**Sora**

I’m not sure what to expect from any of this. If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t actually want to go to this party, but some part of me can’t resist the thought of getting to talk to Riku some more. I’m not sure why, but the thought makes me excited. Imagining him paying full attention to me elicits a storm of butterflies in my stomach. 

That’s interesting. 

As we walk down the streets, Namine and Kairi are huddled together ahead of me, their voices hushed and low enough that I can’t hear what they’re saying. Kairi turns around periodically to make sure I’m still following them. I guess I could still leave, but leaving this whole thing unresolved will keep me awake and miserable.

When we arrive outside of Riku’s apartment, there is already music and excited chatter pouring into the hallway. The door is unlocked so we let ourselves into the kitchen. 

I have no idea how they’ve managed to already recruit a small group in the time it’s taken us to walk over from the venue. I suspect Demyx had probably planned for this. 

Axel is drinking a dark liquid and when someone makes him laugh, he nearly spits it out. Kairi keeps looking over at me as if she’s expecting me to bolt any second. 

Namine smiles and shrugs, taking off her jacket and grabbing a beer from the kitchen island. 

“I’ll give you a try,” I tell Kairi to get her to relax. “I’ll hang out before I decide what to do. So... don’t worry. I’ll let you know before I go. Before I decide.”

She relaxes a little. I’m irritated at her, but I can’t stand seeing her so uncomfortable because it stresses me out. I’m such a pushover. 

Demyx shoulders into me, handing over a cup. The contents spill over the edge as he says, “Welcome, dude!” He leaves, pressing another cup into someone else’s hand before I can respond. I’m feeling so out of place that I begin drinking without trying to figure out what’s inside. 

I cough, sputtering, and blanch at the taste. I take another deep drink, hoping each gulp gets me closer to that glorious state of not giving a fuck about how bad everything tastes. 

I don’t think I’ve drank alcohol since moving here. It’s probably not a good that my first instinct to calm myself down is to make myself drunk, but I don’t know what else to do or who to talk to, or what to even say. I still don’t know how I feel about this whole situation. Should I just go along with it?

Do I want to join a band? I roll my eyes at myself. It’s not actually being in a band, it’s just working with one. For a fleeting second I let myself image what it could be like being famous. My heart pounds and I take another deep drink. 

Then again... I continue thinking, it’s not like I have ever paid attention to who is responsible for writing the songs I hear on the radio. I guess I assumed it was the singer, but that’s probably unfair. I think about pulling out my phone to search the internet for famous songwriters, but surprisingly no one else is on their phones and I don’t want to be singled out as ‘that guy’. 

When I turn my head to find the source of a crashing noise, my vision takes a second longer to catch up to the movement. I don’t mean to, but I let out a giggle. What am I doing here? I finish the rest of the drink in my hand and grab another set out on a nearby table. 

I feel myself relaxing. I take a deep breath and watch the other people in the room. I don’t see Riku and I’m surprised at the disappointment. This is his house, right? Where am I? I laugh again because I have no idea. I wander around the edge of the rim, catching snippets of conversations about the show and gossip. Across the room, Kairi is talking to Axel, but her eyes are on me. 

“Feel like talking?” I turn around to quickly and wobble. Namine is at my side, swirling the contents of her glass. 

“I don’t know what to talk about,” I respond honestly. 

“Well, what are you thinking? You seem a little uncomfortable.” 

“Hm,” I wonder. Another drink. “Give me a few more minutes and I’ll be more talkative. I’ve got to forget about myself first.”

She laughs. “Forget yourself?”

“Yeah, you know,” I raise my cup, “lower inhibitions or whatever. I don’t know how to talk to people.”

She looks skeptical. “You seemed fine talking with me when we first met.”

“Mm, yeah, but that’s only because you couldn’t hear my internal screaming.” 

That makes her laugh. “They are good people, I promise. I know what Kairi did wasn’t very... honest...” she pauses for a second, “but isn’t it kind of cool to have someone sing your song?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be a song,” I grumble. 

“It can be though,” Namine presses. “It kind of already is. It’s a good song.”

“Y’think so?” My skin feels weirdly thick and tingly. I reach up a hand to tap my cheek, testing the sensation. “Am I blushing?” 

Why did I ask her that?

“Your face is a bit red,” she responds. I try to take another sip, but Namine blocks my hand with hers. “Maybe slow down. Demyx is notorious for making overly potent drinks.”

I smile. “S’fine, all good. I can’t talk to these people about this if I’m sober.” 

She shrugs. The colors in the room seem a little sharper and her eyes are electric blue. 

I’m starting to care less about how bad the liquor tastes. 

I stand there talking with Namine about her drawings and work and generally anything other than the situation at hand. The alcohol makes me talkative. I can’t stop talking. Talk. Ing. Am I being annoying? Is this is what normal people feel like all the time? Do some people actually feel this comfortable talking all the time? That would be so cool!

I can’t tell how long I’ve been standing here with her. It could have been ten minutes or an hour. I’m definitely feeling relaxed now. 

“I’m going to look around for a bit,” I tell her. My face is hot. I keep getting excited thinking I know the song that’s playing on the stereo, but I never actually know the words. I don’t care. 

I still haven’t seen Riku. Why do I care about that? I remember the way his green eyes bore into me at the show and feel my stomach tighten in knots. 

I walk the perimeter of the apartment, fingers trailing along the spines of a bookshelf lined with biographies of famous musicians. There is a picture frame shoved in the corner and inside the glass I see a younger looking Kairi and Riku building a sandcastle. The contrast between the picture and what I saw at the show earlier makes me laugh. 

I feel hot. So hot. Head is fuzzy. I finish my drink and place the glass on the bookshelf, using a nearby jewel CD case as a coaster. Who uses CDs anymore? See Dee. Seed. 

I have the sudden urge to explore the rest of the apartment. Everyone else has splintered off into smaller groups, playing games and singing, and no one is paying any mind to where I’ve went. I don’t see Namine anywhere. 

There is a door set off to the left side of the room and even though it’s shut, I feel oddly compelled to snoop around. Somewhere in the back of my head I feel like this is a justified retaliation for invading the privacy of my brain. You snoop on my thoughts and I will snoop in your bedroom. That’s fair. 

I slide in, stumbling into the room. It’s dark, but one wall is taken up by a sliding glass door, so in the moonlight I can make out the general layout of the place. The sliding door leading onto a small balcony littered with mostly empty plant pots. The thought of some fresh air sounds immediately pleasing. 

I stumble through the bedroom, tripping a bit. My brain distantly considers the thought of poking around inside more, but the call of a cool summer breeze outside lures me like a siren. 

I fumble for the door handle and slide onto the balcony. It’s dark out here. The nearest streetlight is still too far away to provide much of anything. I slide down the glass and watch the world vibrate around me. 

Deep breaths push a content feeling further and further until even my fingertips are pulsing with relaxation. I close my eyes and the more I think about the fact that I have no reason to smile right now, the harder it becomes to keep my mouth from betraying me. I smile wider, then laugh. 

There is the sensation of movement to my left. 

“What’s so funny?” a cool voice asks. 

Oh. I didn’t even notice anyone else out here. Did I even try to look? I can’t remember. When I turn to face the voice, I can see a figure leaning against the metal railing. How did I miss that? It takes a second for my vision to still and a second longer for brain to recognize the face. 

“H-hey, Riku,” I stutter. The stutter makes me laugh. Am I funny? Am I being funny? 

Riku walks over, slides down to sit on the ground across from me, his back to the rails, mine to the glass. “I don’t think we’ve really properly been introduced yet.”

“Sora,” I blurt out. It comes out louder than I had planned. 

“Riku,” he answers. “I guess you’re probably pissed at us.”

I consider this. His eyes are so green and his hair is so long. It looks so soft. I really want to touch it to confirm the feeling. 

Wait. He asked a question. Focus. 

“No, just... overwhelmed, I think. It’s kind of shocking to hear someone sing an entry in your journal.”

He tilts his head to the side and considers what I’ve said. The movement skips and distorts in my drunken mind. Riku opens his mouth to say something, but I interrupt him before he gets a word out. 

“I don’t know anything about writing songs. Are they always so personal? I’ve never really paid...paid attention.” 

Riku relaxes into a smile. It feels like I have just taken the first free fall on a roller coaster. Weightless. Fluttering. I’ve never looked at another man’s face quite so closely. Riku has a small scar on an eyebrow. His chin is freshly shaved. He smells clean, like he had just stepped out from the shower.

“Yeah, it can be like that.” I liked his singing voice but I like his talking voice even more right now. “Sometimes songs are the only way I know how to talk about things.”

“So embarrassing,” I add. 

He laughs. I like the sound. I want to make him laugh again. 

I stop slouching and learn forward conspiratorially. I try to keep my voice quiet. “Would we get to write together?” 

What? That wasn’t what I had meant to say. What had I meant to say though? 

“I’m not sure what you’re—“

“If I help you get over your writers block or whatever is going on. Kairi said you’ll bring me on as a songwriter and you’ll keep singing my poem.”

“Well...”

Riku looks at me. I can tell the alcohol is the only thing allowing me to not buckle under the pressure.

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” I mutter before I realize the words coming out of my mouth. 

I am rewarded by another gentle laugh. Is it weird to call a guy pretty? Handsome doesn’t seem like the right word. 

“No, beautiful,” I correct. 

I watch his face drop. I said the wrong thing. Shit. 

“I’m sorry,” I say sitting back. I feel ashamed and the alcohol swirls this feeling into something larger. What am I doing? A wave of panic threatens to overtake me. 

“Don’t apologize,” he admonishes me. He grabs my forearm and tugs me forward. I’m not sure what he wants from me. I’m confused. “You look so much like... like someone else. It took me off guard is all.” He releases me and sits back. 

“Who?”

“Ah, a boyfriend. Well, I suppose I should say ex-boyfriend now,” he sighs. 

For some reason the mention of a boyfriend sends a thrill down my spine. I picture Riku pressed against the shadowy form of another man, limbs tangled. The thought brings pressure to my groin. My brain doesn’t give me enough time to process exactly what it means that I’m enjoying the thought of two men together like that. It urges me forward hazily. All of a sudden I realize I have to kiss him. 

Before my thoughts can catch up to my hands, they’re gripping Riku’s shirt, pulling him forward aggressively. My mouth slams into his unsuspecting lips, and he opens his mouth in surprise. The pain of his teeth busting into my lip seems far away and I don’t mind it at all. 

I am suddenly consumed and aroused by the thought of his attention being focused on me. My hands slide from his shirt and tangle in his hair as I deepen the kiss. It doesn’t occur to me that I should have asked him first if I could do this, but my drunken confidence and the aching below my belt propel me onward. 

This feels different, like breaking through the waves after diving. I’ve never kissed another man. Do they all taste this good? 

I break for air, panting and find Riku’s eyes wide. I panic and start to pull my hands from his hair when he closes his eyes, grabs me, and closes the space between us once more.

**Drawing was commissioned by me from @hakeism on tumblr! Thank you!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY GETTING TO THE GOOD STUFF (HOPEFULLY).
> 
> The songs in this chapter are by Silverstein and Brand New (again).


	4. Track 4: Wow, I Hate This Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing Sora isn't anything like kissing Vanitas.

**Riku**

I was not expecting him to kiss me, but here we are. There is a storm raging in my chest but I can’t pinpoint the emotion setting the skies ablaze with thunder. Fear? Lust? Anger? I’m so surprised that I let him do what he wants. 

When Sora pulls away, gauging my reaction, I find the source of the coppery tang of his kiss. He’s split his lower lip open on my teeth in his eagerness. His face is flushed, he’s breathing heavily, and I can’t stop looking at the red shine of his mouth. His hands are tangled in my hair, clinging desperately. When I feel him start to loosen his grip and pull away, panic seizes in my heart. 

You can’t leave again. Not again. Not now. 

I reach out hopelessly and shut my eyes. When they’re closed I can imagine it’s Vanitas. Even with my eyes open, it’s easy to convince myself it’s still him. 

I kiss him again. And again. Feverishly. Breathlessly. 

Sora doesn’t kiss like Vanitas. He doesn’t taste like Vanitas either. Vanitas kissed me like he was trying to consume me. He always tasted like cloves. Sora kisses delicately, like an apology. His mouth is all liquor and blood. 

With Vanitas, I never felt in control. He dominated me in every way, from the brutal way he kissed me to the soundless way he could disarm me with his smile. The first time Vanitas touched me, I nearly cried. When we were finished, I did cry. He was so beautiful and so unattainable. The thought of him doing that with someone else is devastating. My heart hurts. It hurts so much. 

I try to ground myself in the moment but am unsure what I’m really trying for. Is this some lame attempt to conjure back Vanitas? Am I just lonely? My eyelids flutter. Open, Sora. Closed, Vanitas. Open, Sora. Closed—

When I feel Sora’s fingers trace my jaw. I sigh. I am definitely lonely. 

While I’m debating the moral ambiguity of making out with your ex-boyfriend’s doppelgänger, Sora moves to his knees and straddles my hips. He presses into me. The metal railing bites into my back and shoulder, but I try to focus on the soft sounds he’s making above me instead. He tilts my head toward the sky, closer to his mouth. He deepens the kiss, tongue searching for mine. 

Suddenly I’m not sure where to put my hands. The reality of the situation is slowly breaking through the desire-clouded haze. I feel blood rushing south and realize I need to put an end to this. I’m feeling so torn. Right now, I want him. I want him but I need him to stop. 

His fingers are struggling with the collar of my shirt. God. He is so damn persistent. 

I struggle to silence a moan when I feel his hot mouth press against the delicate skin between my neck and shoulder. He begins to suck at the flesh and I gasp. I dig my fingers into his hips hard enough that I feel him whimper, but he doesn’t pull back. I shiver when he lets go of me, leaving a wet mark on my neck where his lips had been. 

Pinned. He’s got me trapped like a butterfly in his cage. I’m a prisoner again. I want him to dominate me. Destroy me. 

My body is aching for more and I can feel through the strain of his jeans that he is too. He looks at me longingly. His eyes are glazed over, drunk. 

This is a bad idea. 

I close my eyes and place my hands on his chest firmly. I can feel his heart fluttering. He’s so much smaller than me and yet here I am, too weak to move. He tries to close the distance between us but somehow I manage to hold him back. 

“M’sorry,” he slurs, landing back on his ass. Even though it’s dark, I can see the redness of his face, the rise and fall of his shoulders with excited breath. 

“No,” I say. “No, it’s fine. It’s just...”

He’s avoiding my eyes now, avoiding me like he wasn’t just pressing against me thirty seconds ago. The fact that he’s doing exactly what I need him to do enrages me. 

“I’ve never done that before,” he forces out. His voice is high and thick with panic. His fingers flutter to his mouth. 

“Kiss a stranger or kiss a man?” I know the words come out more aggressively than I intend them to, but it’s taking all my willpower to keep away from him. I don’t think I can handle the disappointment of Sora telling me he’s straight right now. 

This isn’t the first time I’ve been a testing ground for confused men. I played these games with Vanitas, and I lost. The memory of his golden eyes searing into me burns. I can’t let myself get lost in another person like that again. I don’t have enough energy to do this again. 

Sora is dangerous. I’m in love rehab and here he comes in, conveniently placed on my lap (literally), and wrapped up in a pretty little Vanitas-fucking-looking-package to boot. This has got to be some kind of sick cosmic joke. 

“Erm. Both, I guess,” he says quietly. He’s covering his eyes with his hands now. 

I’m not being fair to him. He’s drunk and vulnerable and I should have not let him kiss me. I push my hair back and can still feel the phantom sensation of Sora’s hands gripping me. 

I stand up and take a deep breath. “Sora, you don’t want to go down this road with me. It won’t end well.” 

I need to think. I need to be alone. I nudge him out of the way of the door with my boot before he can respond and trudge back into the safety of my room. I don’t dare look back at Sora sprawled on the floor behind me. 

Inside I can still hear the party raging on the other side of the door. The thought of going out there exhausts me, but staying in my room, with Sora just sitting out on the balcony isn’t an option. 

I’ve already showered off the sweat and grime of the show, but I head into the safety of my bathroom again anyway. I lock the door and lean heavily against it. My deep breath comes out shuddering. 

When I look into the mirror, I look crazed. My hair is tangled and Sora apparently managed to leave his mark on me in the form of an angry, red welt on my neck. I’ve had enough hickies to know that by morning this will be deep purple and obnoxious to hide. 

I sit down on the floor and close my eyes. I’m so pent up. I’m too anxious to jerk off, and I feel like I’ve done enough questionable things today to land me in hell already.

Still, I allow myself the memory of Sora’s mouth. The softness of his breathing. The gentleness in the way he hesitated before touching me. The way his eyes drank me in. 

He felt... nice. Gentle in every way Vanitas was rough. 

Fuck. 

The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I figure. I unbutton my jeans and ease them down my hips. I allow myself to get lost in the details. I set an aggressive pace, but it doesn’t take much anyway. 

I’m not sure who I’m imagining when I come. The two just keep blurring. 

* * *

**Sora**

The caterwauling of a rooster somewhere wakes me up just as the sky is turning orange. I roll over and feel my stomach drop. Ugh, I feel... bad. Hungover. I don’t know how, but I guess I fell asleep on a balcony. My head throbs with each heartbeat. 

My mouth is dry and tastes terrible. What was I thinking last night? How did I even get here? Where exactly IS here? Gotta remember. Everything hurts. 

I close my eyes and trace yesterday’s steps. Concert. Singing. Riku. Poem. Kairi. Party... Party then...? Balcony? 

I push myself up and yawn. The movement causes a pain in my mouth, and when I reach a hand up I remember it split a little last night when I...

When... I...

Oh, no. Did that happen? My lip is sore, so that’s real at least. Did I dream up the rest? 

Images of silver waves. Taste of mint. The smell of soap and those acid green eyes. 

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. 

What the hell was in that drink? 

My face burns. Last night wasn’t like me at all. I practically threw myself at Riku. 

I’ve only kissed one other person before, and that was after weeks and weeks of pining, dates, and nervous fumbling. I don’t even know Riku’s last name. I didn’t even know who he was a week ago, let alone know how he tastes. 

Oh god, I remember how he tastes. 

Shame and embarrassment sting me. I scramble to my feet. My headache is constricting my ability to look at anything too long. I don’t know what I’ll say or how I can apologize to him. How do you face someone after... that? I don’t want to turn around because I’m afraid Riku is going to be in his room.

Of course he’s going to be in his room. He lives here. I’m the creep sleeping on his deck and shoving my tongue down his throat. 

I’m mortified as I turn, expecting to see Riku. Bracing myself for the worst. 

But the room inside is empty. Relief washes over me as I quietly slide the door open and step inside. I pause and listen for any signs of life. It’s quiet. 

It was too dark last night and I was too drunk to notice his room. In the morning light I take in the navy quilt on the bed, the table covered by vinyl records, the pile of dark clothes tossed carelessly over a chair. It smells masculine and surprisingly woodsy. There is an acoustic guitar hanging on the wall, and the face is covered with stickers of names and brands I’ve never heard of. I walk closer, letting my hands trace the words. 

This is totally a violation of personal space, but I can’t deny it’s a little thrilling. Then again, grinding against a person is also a pretty personal violation and I’ve already crossed that line. God, I really did that, didn’t I? I drop my hand from the guitar. 

I’m not exactly sure which door leads back to the kitchen area. I can see light under the the door to the right, but when I try for the handle it is locked and doesn’t budge. 

The left door opens into the main apartment, and I see Kairi curled up on the couch, her hair piled in a messy knot on her head. The kitchen behind her is cluttered with the aftermath of the party. 

“Oh,” she says, surprised. “I wondered where you went off to last night...” She looks younger in her pajamas and bare face. I’ve interrupted her in the middle of painting her nails a pale pink. 

“I, uhm,” I start. “This isn’t what it...” I know my face is red now. I’m sweating. I want to run and hide. 

She smiles and waves me off. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Ah, thanks...” I’m not sure how to conclude this.

Luckily she saves me, patting the seat next to her on the couch lightly. “We didn’t get a chance to talk, and no offense, you look pretty bad. Let me get you something to drink before you head out.” 

As I sit down, head cradled in my hands, I hear her slippers thumping their way toward the counters in the open kitchen. The hiss and sputter of a coffee machine drowns out Kairi’s quiet humming. A few minutes later there is the mechanical pop of a toaster and the smell of bread. 

When she returns, she nudges my shoulder with something hot. Lifting my head, I take the mug of coffee she’s holding out and watch as she places a plate of toast on the coffee table in front of me. 

“This’ll make you feel better.”

The thought of eating anything worries me, but I do take a deep pull of the coffee and let it burn away the awful taste in my mouth. “Thank you,” I tell her. 

“No problem.” She takes her place once again and resumes painting the nails on her other hand. “So... you’ve spent at least a little time with... some of us,” she says.

I interrupt her to clarify, “N-nothing happened.” 

She waves me off again. “Sure, sure, like I said, I didn’t see anything. Nothing happened.”

“I’m serious—“

“Regardless,” she presses on, “have you made a decision? Did you have time to think everything over? ...Will you work with us?” 

I don’t remember consciously deciding that I would play along, but I know in my heart its already decided. “Yeah,” I tell her. “Just let me know what you need from me. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best.”

When she smiles, I can’t help but respond in kind. 

“Sora, this is great! You’re not going to regret it.” 

“Heh, I hope so.” The coffee burns my throat. “Say, what are you still doing here anyway?”

She raises an eyebrow. I am jealous because I’ve never been able to do that, despite years of trying. “I mean, I should be asking you that. I live here.”

Oh. Why didn’t I realize that? 

“Don’t worry, it’s not like Riku having boys over is that rare of an occurrence. I’m used to it.”

I can’t help but bristle at the implication. Why should I care about Riku’s sex like? We shared a drunken kiss. Full stop. Nothing more. A random alcohol-fueled fluke. (So why am I frowning?) 

“Anyway... We have a meeting with Ansem— that record label guy— this evening to go over some paperwork. I don’t want to hide anything from you. You’re officially one of us now, you know? I know it’s short notice, but will you be able to be there?”

This is moving more quickly than I had expected. 

“I, uh, I guess so. I need to take care of a few things today, especially since I was gone last night, but I think I can finish those by this evening.” I need to check in on my grandmother. She’s probably confused that I’ve been gone so long. Then again, maybe she hasn’t noticed...

“Sweet. We can pick you up and drive together. The building we are going to is on the other side of the island so it’s better to carpool.”

“Oh, sure.” She said ‘we’ so I’m assuming this includes Riku. Great. 

“Let’s exchange contact info. Make sure you give me your address,” she says passing a pink phone to me. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ambush you like Namine.”

I laugh. “Yeah that picture thing she does is weird.”

Kairi shrugs. “You’ll get used to it. Speaking of Namine, you should send her a text. She was worried when you disappeared last night. I told her you probably just went home, but I think she was afraid you were angry with her.”

“Oh, right. I’ll do that.” I stand up awkwardly and place the mug on a coaster. “I’ll get out of your hair for now. I’ll see you later, I guess?”

Kairi holds up the plate of toast, insisting I take it. Begrudgingly, I lift one triangle and shove it in my mouth before I turn to the door. 

“See you later!” she says cheerily. “Thank you, Sora. Really. I’m looking forward to working together.”

* * *

**Kairi**

Well, well, well, well, well. 

I can’t say I hadn’t expected it, but it’s not like I REALLY expected it, you know? Sora does look a lot like Vanitas now that Riku’s mentioned it. He’s not as brooding though, which is a nice change of pace. I can see how Riku would be drawn to him. He definitely has a type. 

I bite my lip. This could end badly. Riku is so out of sorts from the breakup. I’m still not sure if he’s in denial, anger, or depression. What are the stages of grief? I think he’s been fluctuating through them all. Riku loved Vanitas so much. Is a rebound such a good idea right now? 

I’m still so angry with how V. treated Riku that I haven’t spoken to him since he left. He’s texted me a few times, but hasn’t even asked how Riku is doing. What a dick. I know my ignoring him is probably driving him insane, so I take a bit of pleasure in that at least. 

I check my phone. It’s still early, but Axel is already sending me a strict itinerary for the meeting today. He’s so bossy. Usually I’d give him a hard time about playing the band’s mom, but I’m actually thankful for it today. 

I decide it’s probably time to check in on my roommate. I knock lightly on his door, and when he doesn’t answer, I let myself in. Nowhere in sight. 

I sit down on the edge of his bed and knock tentatively on the bathroom door since I notice the light is on. “Hey, Riku, you in there?”

I hear a small groan. 

“I’m gonna come in, okay? Is the door unlocked?” I wait for him to respond. 

I hear him twist the lock, then let myself in. 

He’s laying in the bathtub, a mound of towels padding his makeshift bed. I stifle a laugh. “Did you sleep in here?”

He glares at me in answer. The dark circles under his eyes are comically pronounced. 

“Ha! You really did. I guess nothing really did happen then,” I finish. 

That gets his attention. He sits up, face pink, and asks, “What do you mean?”

I throw a hand towel from the counter at him and sit on the edge of the tub. “Don’t play dumb with me, mister. Sora just waltzed out of your room at the crack of dawn looking like schoolgirl.”

He slides down and covers his face with one of the rolled up towels he was using as a pillow. “You saw him?”

“Uh, yeah, so spare me denial. What happened?” 

“Nothing. Nothing major. We didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re implying. I don’t know if he is even into guys.”

I’m skeptical. 

“He just showed up on the balcony while I was sitting out there thinking. He was really drunk. He kissed me...”

I squeal. “How did you not start with that detail?” I swat at his knee. “You don’t KNOW if he’s into guys and he’s already kissed you? Riku!”

He uncovers his face and looks miserable. “Kairi, he had no idea what he was doing. I was feeling sorry for myself and I shouldn’t have let him do it. I just really miss...” he trails off, not wanting to say Vanita’s name out loud. “I miss him a lot. And Sora was there. And I just let him do it.”

I soften my features and reach out for Riku’s hand. I give it a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Riku. I know you do.”

Something in Riku’s face changes and he tugs me into the bathtub with him. I yell in protest, but quickly settle in to awkwardly cuddle my best friend. He holds onto me tightly and I nuzzle him affectionately. 

“I’m sorry I screwed up your plan to save the band.”

I look up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know, bringing in Sora to help us write some new material.”

I wink at him. “Oh, he’s not going anywhere. He agreed to stay on.”

“Oh.” 

I absolutely do not miss the blush sneaking its way onto Riku’s face, just like I don’t miss the twitch at the corner of his mouth as he tries to keep from smiling. 

“Oh my, Riku, I think you might have a crush!”

He growls. “Shut up. I’m just not over Vanitas. Just because I’ve been dumped, it doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs!”

“Psh, whatever. Spare me.” I pull myself up and step out of the bathtub. My shoulder already hurts from the awkward position. I have no idea how Riku could sleep in there all night. “Just be careful.”

“I know.”

“Because this isn’t just about you now. This involves all of us now,” I remind him. “We are going to be spending a lot of time together from now on.”

Riku grabs my outstretched hand and stands, cracking his neck and stretching. “Yeah, I know.”

I give him a quick hug. “I trust you.”

When he hugs me back, I feel my stomach growl, which ends the sentimentality. He laughs, and shoves me toward the door. “Get out of here and eat breakfast. I’ll see you later.”

I hesitate at the threshold and smirk at him. “But, really, how was it?”

“The kiss?”

I nod.

“Fatal,” he tells me. 

_Every time I hear the key_

_I see you in the melody_

_It never was a part of me_

_Wow, I hate this song_

_Each time it comes on_

_I hate this song_

_Each time it comes on_

_La-la-la, make it stop_

_La-la-la, heard enough_

_La-la-la, holy fuck_

_I don't wanna sing along_

_La-la-la, make it stop_

_La-la-la, heard enough_

_La-la-la, holy fuck_

_I hate this song_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that goes with this chapter is by The Used.
> 
> Also, shout out to my first subscriber and the two guests who left Kudos. I totally let it get to my head, so this chapter is dedicated to you. Thanks. :)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @ borndeaddd if ya wanna chat.


	5. Track 5: Head Like A Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band gets to work on the new album and Sora makes a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws chapter into the abyss*  
> The lemon is imminent. 
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr @borndeaddd

**Vanitas**

We are shooting the next music video and the makeup they’ve got on me itches. I’m sitting outside in a tent while some woman with too much perfume is adjusting my hair. When I’ve finally had enough, I smack her hands away dismissively.

I am dressed in a slim black suit jacket and pants, but no shirt underneath to accentuate my well-toned abdomen. There is no subtlety in how the album is being marketed. Everything screams sex. Each detail carefully crafted to make seats wet and jeans tighter. I love it.

I lick my lips. I feel invincible. I’m on fire. It’s intoxicating. 

We’ve got to film one last scene. We’ve been waiting for night to fall so we can really capture the lights of the city. There are fake rain rigs set for an extra layer drama, but that means I’ve only got one chance to get the take or I’m back in that fucking chair having the fucking perfume empress fix my hair again. 

In the reflection of the mirror ahead of me, I see my scene partner enter. The woman is so very ordinary: mousey brown hair, pale skin, no piercings or tattoos. So boring. She’s a stand in for every ordinary fuck in this place. They’ve cast her intentionally to be relatable to the audience. So they can really place theirselves in her shoes. She is annoyingly quiet and has not even once met my eyes between takes. So far, the scenes have been pretty tame, but this next one is a bit more exciting. 

“They want you in place,” a voice beside me says. 

I can tell it’s my assistant, Ventus, by the bored way he addresses me. So far he has been completely impervious to my influence. My eyes flicker in the mirror. 

I turn to look at him and he’s holding out a water bottle and yawning. He actually has the fucking nerve to yawn. As if I am wasting his time. As if he has somewhere better to be than on the set with the newest top-charting rock musician in the country. 

Just to piss him off, I take the lid off and tip the bottle upside down, letting the water spill onto the concrete and his shoes. 

“Great,” Ventus yawns again. He wanders off to do... whatever the fuck he does while I’m working. 

I sneer after him before exiting the makeshift tent and heading to the mark next to the glossy black building ahead. Mouse Girl is already there. What was her name? Odette? Like the swan? 

Her hair is held up by pins that look like feathers and her white dress billows around her figure. She’s meant to look angelic to my assuredly non-angelic persona. Angels and demons or some shit. Pretty on the nose if you ask me, but the media people assure that this is on trend with our key demographic. So, whatever. 

“We will start playing the recording in 10. You know the drill. Go wild,” the director shouts. 

The music is loud and booming. I don’t actually have to sing— that part will be added in post-production— but I think the scenes look better if I do, so I clear my throat as I wait for my cue. 

Now. I feel the first drops of water hit me. 

I’m going to sing at the camera first, swaying, dancing. The fake rain flies off me as I point toward to lens. I unbutton the suit jacket, exposing more of myself. 

Then, I prowl over to girl, who is looking afraid of me, hiding under a white parasol. I take it from her hands and throw it on the ground. “I’d rather die than give you control,” I purr. 

I pivot to make it seem like I’m about to walk away from her before twisting back. The water soaks her shirt and it clings to her scandalously. 

Her eyes widen as I slam my fists on the wall to either side of the her head. I lean in so close we are nearly kissing. 

“Bow down to the one you serve,” I tell her. Just to really push it over the edge, I bite the lobe of her ear. When I pull back, smiling darkly, her face is a wonderful shade of red. “You’ll get what you deserve.” I slip the strap of her dress over her shoulder and lick my lower lip. 

Her mouth parts prettily. Her eyes are welling up with tears as she places her shaking hands on my naked chest. See? No one can resist. 

Perfect. 

* * *

**Riku**

I know it makes sense to carpool to the meeting. Irrationally, though, I hope that some strange turn of events will keep us from picking Sora up. Unfortunately with each passing minute on the road the likelihood of this happening decreases. 

Kairi is driving because she doesn’t like the way I always speed. I think it’s also because she secretly knows I would forget to pick up our newest plus one. 

When we arrive outside a small cottage, the yard white-fenced and tastefully lined with a variety of flowers, Kairi pulls out her phone to verify the address. 

“This is it,” she says while reading the house number. “This is not what I was expecting. What about you?”

I shrug. Honestly I hadn’t considered it. 

The phone rings and Kairi picks up. “Oh, hey! Just a second.” She holds up a finger to shush me even though I’m not saying anything. ‘Go get Sora,’ she mouths, before returning to the call. “Uh-huh, yep.”

I sigh and unbuckle my seat belt. I need to suck it up or this is going to be a very long day. 

When I step outside, the air is fragrant with the surrounding flora. I cautiously let myself enter the gate and am surprised to find a woman bent over the ground, shovel in hand. Her head is mostly obscured by a straw hat, but I can see white wisps escaping from where she has it pinned. 

“Hello,” I say. I shove my hands into my leather jacket. Passively, I hope that she isn’t the type to freak out when she takes in all the studs, spikes, and curse words splattered across my chest and shoulders. It would totally throw off Axel’s schedule if she calls the police. 

“Oh!” she yells, surprised. She drops her gardening tools and the sound summons a yellow dog to her side. He grows at me then sniffs at my boots, at which point he decides I must be okay because his tail starts to wag.

“Let me help you up,” I say, holding out a hand. 

When she looks up, I see bright blue eyes that sparkle when she smiles. She’s beautiful and dignified looking, but there is a childlike quality to the way she scans my face. She grabs my hand. 

“Why, hello, young man,” she says, now on her feet. “Who might you be?”

“My name is Riku,” I tell her. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ears from where the breeze has dislodged it. “I’m here to get Sora.”

At the mention of his name, her smile widens and I can see the resemblance between them. They must definitely be related. “Oh good! I’m so glad he’s getting out more these days. It gives me more time for gardening.”

I take in the yard. Red roses, candy pink hibiscus, and orange lilies surround the space. It’s cozy like an old postcard. “Is he inside?” I gesture with a thumb. 

“Who?”

I pause. “Sora. Is he inside?”

She laughs and squeezes my bicep affectionately. “Oh yes. You should convince him to go visit with you. He spends so much time inside lately.” She’s beginning to repeat herself and it occurs to me that she may be having trouble with her memory. 

I soften and smile at her. “I’ll go get Sora now.”

“Young man, wait,” she says just as I turn. When I look back, she bends over to grab her shears. She snips at a rose bush and then hands over a small red bud. It hasn’t opened yet, but I can already smell the sweetness. 

I’m not quite sure what this gesture means, but I accept the flower graciously and rearrange some safety pins on my jacket to make room to pin it on my breast. The stem is long, so the she helps by snipping more of the stem off when I am finished. 

“Now isn’t that handsome?” she says. 

“Thank you.”

She lets me go this time. I knock on the front door and lean into the frame as I wait. I hear muffled footsteps and a door shutting from inside, and then the door is opening and Sora is in front of me. All of a sudden the butterflies are back in my stomach.

“H-hi,” he says, grinning. He rubs his neck, awkwardly. He is wearing a white sweater and khakis and looks like a dad from a department store catalogue. 

I can’t help but laugh. The sound comes out as a choke, and Sora looks instantly abashed. His face turns bright pink. 

“Sorry,” I say. Before I can help it, I add, “it’s cute.”

His mouth opens soundlessly and the blush deepens. Oh, god, he really is cute. This could be a problem. I resist the urge to reach out and run my fingers through his hair. 

“Car is ready. Let’s go.” I turn around, pretending I didn’t see his hands reaching out toward me. My heart thumps. 

“R-right.”

### 

We arrive just in time and are sent up a few stories to the office of our new manager, Ansem. I’m not sure how to read him quite yet. He’s said nothing outright rude or maniacal to us, but he gives off a strange vibe, that makes me vaguely dislike him. 

He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he is already representing Vanitas. In fact, he seems to enjoy reminding us. So that makes me dislike him more. It’s exhausting having a famous person break your heart. 

If there were any other options, we wouldn’t be groveling at Ansem’s feet. But if we want the band to reach the next level this is the man who can take us there. He is a local legend and has represented some of the most talented alternative artists in recent history. Just having his name attached to our album will lend it a kind of credibility we can’t hope to gain on our own. 

“Sit,” he says, gesturing to a deep purple couch. Velvet, of course, to match the thick curtains blocking out all of the day’s light. The room is dark and plush and reeks of money. 

The five of us, Axel, Demyx, Kairi, Sora, and I, oblige. Behind the back of the couch, Ansem points a remote toward the massive screen in front of us and clicks. “I thought you might be interested to see our latest production,” he explains. 

I swear to God... if this is—

The music fades in and there he is all his HD glory. Fucking Vanitas. It’s not enough to keep bringing his name up, no, this guy really wants to pour salt into the wound. I wonder what Vanitas told him about us. About me. 

V. is on the screen, suited darkly. I tell myself that he looks ridiculous, but it still makes me want to finish tearing that damn jacket off of him. His pale fingers are are clutched at his chest as he sings, eyes closed. It’s hard to keep from remembering the way those hands felt on me when the screen shows them tracing down, down, down his chest. 

Fucking Vanitas. Damn it. 

Beside me, Kairi coughs, uncomfortable enough for the both of us, and squirms in her seat. 

Forget an elephant in the room, this is a fucking whale. 

I don’t have to look around to know they’re all looking at me, gauging my reaction. I take a deep breath and lean back as coolly as I can. Fake it, I tell myself. 

“Cool,” is all I say. 

Ansem’s smile doesn’t touch his eyes. “So this is the level of performance I’ll be expecting of you all.”

Instead of paying attention to whatever V. Is doing on the screen, I pick at my nails. Am I trying too hard to seem indifferent? “We got Vanitas to where he is today. You have nothing to worry about.”

Ansem chuckles. He turns the volume down, but leaves the video playing on loop. Unconcerned, he walks back to the large walnut desk dominating the other side of the room. He sits down behind it and gestures to the piles of paper stacked neatly in front of him. “Well, in that case,” he continues, “I do believe we have some business to attend to.”

###

When we finally return to the car several hours later, Kairi immediately releases an exasperated sigh as soon as the door closes. “Man, I had no idea there would be so many legal documents to read through. I mean, jeez, did we just sell our souls away?”

“I didn’t even know what I was looking at,” Sora says from the backseat. 

“Right?” Kairi adds excitedly. “And who would’ve known Demyx is the one person who could?! What was that about?!”

She is referring to the fact that simple, unassuming Demyx, our Demyx, dropped a bombshell revelation on us mid-meeting. 

> _Ansem escorts us to a conference room, an assistant in tow, with the mountains of paperwork. It’s all technical and full of legal terms. When he leaves us in the room to go over everything, no one knows how to proceed._
> 
> _We don’t have enough money to pay for a lawyer to represent us right now, so we are stuck trying to navigate the documents alone. The panic is palpable._
> 
> _Kairi is the first to state what we are all thinking. “How are we supposed to sign all of this when we don’t even know what we are signing?”_
> 
> _Demyx inspects a page and shrugs, “I got it.”_
> 
> _Axel, Kairi, and I laugh. Sora doesn’t know Demyx well enough to realize what a terrible idea it is so he stays silent._
> 
> _“I’m serious,” Demyx says. He furrows his brows at our continuing laughter. “Did you forget that the only thing keeping me from adding esquire to my name is the fact I skipped the bar exam?”_
> 
> _“You WHAT?” Axel exclaims._
> 
> _Demyx looks confused. “I’m totally sure I’ve told you this before. I was in law school before I decided I like hittin’ the stage more than the books.”_
> 
> _“You definitely— definitely— did not tell us that,” I say._
> 
> _Kairi is unable to form a sentence and is gaping at him like a fish. Axel looks like he is about to burst into flames._
> 
> _“Come on, guys, listen, it’s like this....” Demyx explains..._

“Ugh, I’m sooo ready to go home,” Kairi continues. She turns the ignition key and pulls onto the road. The car is playing some quiet indie sounding song. 

The sky is dark enough that I can see the reflection of Sora’s face in the window when streetlights catch the backseat. Not that I’m trying to look at him or anything. He’s just... there. 

Mercifully, we haven’t been left alone yet, and Sora appears to have enough sense to not bring our grope fest up in front of anyone else. I’m not sure how to handle that now that we are technically coworkers. We can’t do this alone right now. And honestly, we really do need his help. I can write, but nothing like Vanitas and certainly not like Sora. Since V. left, I haven’t been able to even write ANYTHING. 

“Shoot,” Kairi says, all of a sudden. “I’ve got to stop to get gas. I thought we could make it.” 

She veers off the highway and follows signage promising low, low, low fuel prices. The gas station is empty, with moths clouding around the light poles like demented cotton candy. 

As Kairi parks the car, she looks at me and Sora. “I’m gonna go inside to pay and use the bathroom. Want me to get you anything? Drinks or snacks?”

“Ah, no thank you,” Sora says quietly. 

I shake my head no and she exits the vehicle, taking the keys with her. 

When the door slams, the silence is immediately awkward. I don’t want to bring it up, but saying quiet seems weird too. 

“So—“ we both say at the same time. Sora chuckles and I wince. 

“Jinx,” he says. When I don’t respond, he goes on. “About last night...”

Nope. 

Never mind. I absolutely cannot deal with this conversation right now. 

My head rests on a clenched fist, arm propped on the console between the front seats. I allow myself one quick glance in the review mirror at him. He’s rubbing his chin nervously, obviously thinking. 

“What about it?” I make sure my voice is level and does not betray the frantic distress signals short-circuiting my insides. 

“Uh, well... I mean,” he’s struggling. If I were nicer, I’d help him out but...

Nope. Not doing this. 

“Did something happen?” I ask in what I hope comes off as bored rather than just dumb. 

Hurry up Kairi, damn it. 

I risk another glance in the mirror. Sora looks stupefied, staring down at his hands. The way he chews on his lip causes my heart to pound. The fact he has the audacity to be cute in this moment infuriates me. 

“Oh, I guess... I guess I was just going to say that I’m sorry if I...” he pauses, searching for the right words. “What I mean to say is that I drank so much that the whole night is a blur.” He chuckles nervously and crosses his arms. His words are clipped and short. 

I look forward out the windshield as small raindrops begin to bounce off the glass. Still, I say nothing. 

“So,” he presses, “so sorry if I... was weird.”

The stress of this conversation is causing me to tighten my shoulders until they ache. I have to consciously remind myself to stop grinding my molars when I finally realize what I’m doing. I still don’t say anything for a long time, considering my options. 

“No harm done,” I tell him finally. “I don’t remember you doing anything.” 

There. Just let it go. Here is your out. Let’s not talk about this any more. 

I’m not sure if I imagine a sigh coming from behind me, or if it’s the wind picking up. He stops talking and I sink lower into the seat. Luckily I can see Kairi finally waking back in our direction, hand help up futilely to keep the rain away from her eyes. 

She fills the tank and gets the car started again quickly. I waste no time in reaching for the radio volume. 

I don’t even care what we listen to. It just needs to be loud. 

* * *

**Sora**

Riku has been avoiding me since the night in the car. 

I tried to apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing by addressing the kiss head on, but Riku brushed me off. I can’t put my finger on why it upsets me so much. Maybe he is ashamed. He is very obviously out of my league. He looks like a, well, a rock star and I am... me. 

I figure prolonging the conversation is going to make the eventual confrontation suck even worse. Maybe he thinks I regret it, or that I’m going to tell him... I don’t know? That I’m not into guys? Sorry, Riku, gorgeous brooding musicians just aren’t my type?

Even sober, I am finding myself attracted to him. It’s a new and exciting thought. I hadn’t really ever considered my sexuality, just kind of went along with what I thought I was supposed to. Now that I’ve seen a glimpse of another option though, I’m reconsidering. 

Maybe he’s right that nothing happened at the party though. Maybe I made the whole thing up. Maybe I did just dream the whole thing. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Ha. 

Even if it were a dream, the knots in my throat when I try to speak to him and the way I want to keep looking at him is definitely real. And I REALLY like to look at him, especially when he’s concentrating and gets this little frustrated frown. It’s hard to keep sneaking peeks though, because I swear he’s got some kind of supernatural ability to predict my movements. He has definitely noticed my staring by now, but he hasn’t done anything about it, so I indulge myself when I can. 

The weeks between the signing and now have been filled with photo shoots, interviews, and practice for the band. I’ve been hanging in the periphery, not quite one of them, but still part enough to be included. Ansem has a deadline set for the end of summer when their first album needs to be finished with recording. 

Axel insists they have at least twelve tracks, because, according to him, anything less than that and buying the physical copy of the album would be worthless. 

While they work through recording the back tracks of old songs, I plant myself at a table in the control booth and pen out ideas for new songs. 

We’ve tried a few different methods for bringing it all together. Sometimes Axel or Kairi will have an idea for a melody and will play it for me and I try to find words that match. Riku is responsible for making sure my words sound authentic and like something the band would actually play. We go back and forth for a long time at this point. Demyx is surprisingly helpful at mediating discussions when a disagreement arises. 

We are starting to get into a comfortable groove. Sometimes a verse will come to me, and I’ll test it out loud with them. This has been met with limited success, both because of the sheer embarrassment I feel sharing and the clashing ideas about what the overall theme of the album is going to be. Axel stresses cohesiveness. That’s a word he uses all the time now. 

I tap a pencil to my lip, struggling for a way to tie in the sound Axel, Kairi, and Demyx are playing over and over again. Riku is sitting across from me, frustrated at me because I haven’t written anything yet and also at himself because he hasn’t either. I’ve noticed he keeps tapping his foot on the floor anxiously.

“I just don’t know,” I say. I look up, and Riku’s got his eyes trained on me. “I’m stuck.”

“Well get unstuck then,” he hisses. 

“You’re welcome to step in any time,” I shoot back. 

He throws his hands up in defeat and sinks lower into his chair. The door to the live room opens, and the rest of the band exits, laughing. At least someone is in a good mood. 

Demyx grabs a towel he threw on the control panel and uses it to dab at his neck. He gets so sweaty playing drums. “How’s it going, champs?”

The only way to describe the look Riku gives him is withering. Demyx shrinks back. 

“Aw, come on, you two. Maybe you just need a break,” Kairi says sympathetically. 

Axel crosses his arms. “We don’t have time for breaks. Not on the schedule.”

Kairi smacks his shoulder. “Well clearly just sitting here isn’t helping either. Maybe they need a change of scenery.”

Axel considers this and hums. “Actually, yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.”

I look over at Riku, who looks back hesitantly. 

“Yeah it’s stuffy in here anyway,” Demyx fusses. He’s tapping at the air conditioning panel on the wall. “Hey is this even on? It’s freakin’ hot.”

Now that he mentions it, it really is warm. I listen for the hum that usually accompanies the cool air, but it is silent save for Demyx’s frantic taps. 

“Oh, no,” Kairi says miserably. “It really is broken.”

“No good,” Axel responds. “Guess that settles it then. Let’s end it for today. I’ll call the repair person. No way I’m rocking out in this heat.”

Riku relaxes and tosses Kairi’s keys to her from their place on the table. She catches them but is quick to wag her finger back at him. 

“Nuh-uh. You two still have work to do.”

“The schedule,” Axel stresses. “For this to work, we need to stay on time and keep things cohesive. Got that memorized?”

Ughhh. 

“Plus, you can write anywhere. It’s not like we can do our parts anywhere else.” Demyx shrugs. 

“Go take a walk or something.”

“A walk?” I ask. 

“I don’t know!” Kairi sounds exasperated as she packs up her instrument. “What do writers do to feel inspired?”

Hm. 

Riku sighs and stands. I feel his eyes on me. “Well, lets go.”

“Where are we going?” I ask him. 

He shrugs. “Anywhere but here. Let’s go get inspired.”

###

We wave goodbye to the group and stand in the parking lot of the studio in silence. This is pretty much the first time we’ve been alone— really alone— since the night in the car, and even then, Kairi was only just inside the store. 

“Where to?”

I’m surprised he is talking first. Usually I have to force conversation out of him. I chew on my lip, thinking. 

“The beach isn’t too far. The water will feel nice in the heat.”

“Sure,” he says. 

###

I’m walking at the edge of the shore, letting the waves break over my toes. I want to take off my zip-up, but there are too many people around and I don’t feel comfortable. 

Riku has rolled up his dark jeans, and is holding his shoes in his free hand. He walks silently next to me, occasionally stopping to pick up particularly interesting shells or to chuck stones out into the water. We haven’t been talking much because the roar of the wind and water is nearly deafening. For some reason, it relaxes me as if it were a weighted blanket. 

I feel the conversation bubbling up inside of me.

The waves crashing nearly down me out, which makes it somehow easier to blurt out. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” I confess. 

“What?” He stops. The tide is coming in. 

I shove my hands in my pockets. “You’re embarrassed that I kissed you that night, right? I get it.” I gesture at myself. “Not exactly model material here. I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to feel weird about it. I get it.”

He pauses. “You think... this is because I think you’re... unattractive?”

I turn to face him and shrug. “Or you’re just not interested.”

“Are you,” he asks tentatively, “interested?”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other. My cheeks are on fire. It would have been so much easier to just have this conversation through a text, but I promised myself I’d try harder than that. 

“I mean...” I look up and his green eyes are smoldering. “... Y-yeah, I guess so.”

I can’t look at him and say it. I turn as a particularly strong wave knocks into my shins. It knocks me momentarily off balance and I feel myself tipping backward. Riku is quick to grab my arm and steady me. The contact knocks out my breath. 

He doesn’t let me go. I can’t look at his face. 

“Sora, you are...” his voice is strained. “That’s not why I’ve been avoiding you.”

This makes me turn. I’m surprised to see Riku’s normally calm face turn a lovely shade of red. He’s actually blushing too. I feel like I’m in a free-fall. 

“So are you... interested?” I ask meekly. 

He releases me. “This whole thing is way more than I bargained for. I keep avoiding you because I don’t want to to fuck everything up.”

I scratch my neck and kick at a shell. “I understand.”

“It’s not because I don’t want to,” he tells me, licking his lips. My heart thumps painfully in my chest. He turns my face toward him with a cool hand and I shiver. “Because I do. Want you, I mean.”

“So take me,” I reply. I can’t believe I actually say it out loud; it’s so _dramatic_. I gulp. My mouth is so dry. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he tells me, searching my face. “I’m a mess right now.”

I shrug. “I don’t mind.” And I don’t, not really. I want for him to kiss me so much that I think it might just kill me. 

“Sora...” he sighs my name and I shiver again. I want to hear him say my name like that all the time. 

The waves crash at our knees now. 

“I can’t promise you anything,” he says, avoiding my eyes. “I don’t know if I can give you anything real. I don’t know if I can do that again.”

I still want to try. I want to try with him. If he’s going to shoot me down, I’m going to at least go down swinging. 

I’ve had enough. 

I grab the front of his shirt and pull him down toward me. “Just shut up,” I command. I am certain that I will die if I don’t kiss him right this second. 

I’ve never kissed anyone like that before. 

_Is this more than you bargained for yet?_

_Oh, don't mind me, I'm watching you two from the closet_

_Wishing to be the friction in your jeans_

_Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him?_

_I'm just a notch in your bedpost_

_But you're just a line in a song_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in this chapter are by Nine Inch Nails, Fall Out Boy, and Dashboard Confessional (kind of... lol)
> 
> Tumblr @borndeaddd
> 
> *tucks 4 Kudo-givers into bed lovingly*


	6. Track 6: If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sora and Riku get better acquainted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, this chapter is ENTIRELY smut. I put it all in one chapter so if ya wanna skip it and keep reading, you can. Just be warned there is a lot of penis below.

**Sora  
**

Fairy tales got it all wrong. 

Fairy tales leave out the ugly, messy parts of falling in love: the agony, the awkwardness, the self-consciousness. Did Sleeping Beauty ever second guess herself after she met the Prince? Was Snow White’s breath bad after all that time dead? Did Cinderella turn the lights off before sex? 

I release Riku from my grasp and wonder distantly if I’ve made a big mistake because it’s not like all the stories have conditioned me to believe. There are no trumpets, no fanfare. My palms feel sweaty and shaky and there is a sharp pain in my foot where I’ve stepped on a shell. 

I just can’t think straight when I’m near Riku, and when I’m not near him, my thoughts are consumed by the thought him. It’s obsessive and exhausting. In the shower, in bed at night, any time I find myself just a little too alone and with a little too much time, I conjure his face. 

A cauldron of emotions is boiling over and I don’t know how to _stop_ it. 

I’ve left the gates of the castle in favor of the great unknown. I’ve stolen the fairy godmother’s wand to make my own wishes come true. 

What kind of curse awaits me?

Riku’s still staring down at me. His jeans are getting soaked from the ocean so he retreats further away from the tide. I follow behind wordlessly. He’s looking out at the waves, silver hair whipping in the wind.

“Well, feeling inspired yet?” he asks. 

  
###

The walk back to grab our things from the studio feels long. We stay side by side and our hands brush against each other. The electricity generated by the back of his hand fries my brain. The pressure in my head is going to cause me to explode any minute now. 

I wonder what Riku is thinking. 

When we get inside, the air conditioner is definitely not running. It’s hot. _Stupid_ hot. _Oppressively_ hot. 

“We still need to come up with something,” Riku reminds me, his back turned. 

I nod. 

Then he turns to me and begins to peel his black shirt off, exposing pale skin and the kind of muscles I’ll never have. A series of inky black patterns spiral down his shoulder, around the torso, and finally dip down below his waist, which leaves me curious as to what may be beneath. 

This is not what I was anticipating. 

It takes a moment for my mind to catch up to what I’m seeing. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of me and says, “Doesn’t make much sense to suffer needlessly.” 

I know he means suffer in the heat, but my body doesn’t get the message. 

I breathe through my mouth, unable to take my eyes off of him. He is gorgeous and so very terrifyingly present. A longing deep in my gut starts to swirl, and I have a feral need to touch him again. 

He walks closer, and pinches the zipper hanging between my chest. His eyes are unwavering and cut me to the core. Slowly, he slides the zipper down the track and I don’t pull away. 

God bless broken appliances. 

“No promises,” he repeats. “Don’t expect anything from me.”

I nod breathlessly. 

He leans into me slowly, arms circling around my waist and pulls me close. I can hear the thrum of his heartbeat when I press close. The cage of his embrace is frighteningly immovable and I think I understand what swooning means now. I feel... safe. 

His mouth is so soft. 

My hands wander up his sweat-slicked chest and marvel at the firmness. I accidentally graze a nipple, which elicits a deep growl from him. 

Noted. 

We break for air and stare wordlessly. Things are about to change. The air is charged like the skies before a thunderstorm. Thick with with possibilities. 

“You’re sure?” he asks. 

Goddammit. 

“Oh, shut up.”

It’s all he needs. His arms drop from my waist and he crouches down to grab my thighs, lifts. He hoists me up so our faces are level. My back slams into the wall. 

“Unf,” I cry out, surprised. 

Riku chuckles and removes a hand to try and slip the rest of my jacket off my shoulder. 

I freeze. 

“What?” He stops kissing my throat to look at me, hand still gripping my shoulder. 

“Would you mind if I left it on?” I ask sheepishly. 

He raises his eyebrows in confusion, but nods. I’ve thrown off whatever his plan is. My objection causes him to hesitate and I can’t stand the absence of his lips. 

I pull him back to me, and he breaks from his daze to suckle at my neck. The sounds are wet and lewd and— oh, god, I am so hard. My face burns and my blood is on fire. 

I’ve never done this before. Nothing even close to it. Before Riku I never really felt the need, but now... god, do I need it. I need it more than anything. 

My fingers knot in his hair as he presses me harder into the wall. The crush of his abdomen into my groin pries a moan out of my throat. It sounds so _loud_ in the quiet room, and my ears burn in embarrassment. 

“Mm,” he says, nuzzling my neck. “I’m going to make sure you make that noise again.”

Which, of course, accelerates my breathing even more. 

“... and again,”

I don’t know what to do. There are no guide books for these things. Or, well, maybe there are. I just haven’t read them. 

He licks my throat. “... and again,” he finishes. 

I notice my hands are shaking when I brush hair out Riku’s face. His kisses my palm and I sigh. When he grips my thighs harder I hesitantly reach down and press against the erection straining his jeans. He sighs this time and I feel his body slacken, if only slightly. Encouraged, I rub against the denim and press a kiss to his mouth. 

The rumble of his moan allows me easier access to his mouth, which I take greedily. I feel beads of sweat roll down the back of my neck. I’m so goddamn nervous that my whole body is shaking. 

Then we are spinning and Riku places me back on the ground, hands reaching hungrily toward me. 

“R-Riku,” I stammer. “T-the door isn’t locked.” 

This does not deter him. “Nope,” he says laughing.

Fuck it. 

I push him backward and he tumbles over the arm of the couch to land on his back. He is spread out before me and the sight is so alluring that it actually _hurts_. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard before. 

He props himself up on his elbows and scoots back. I step over the arm of the couch to straddle his waist and resume kissing him. He arches up against me and I can feel his arousal pressing against mine. 

My hands trace the markings along his skin and I pepper each intersection of ink with kisses, following the trail lower and lower until his belt blocks my path. 

I look up to gauge his reaction, and his head is thrown back, hair pillowed around him like molten silver. I fumble with his buckle and scream internally for my hands to stop shaking. 

There is a supernova inside my skin incinerating me. 

His chest is slick with sweat and I resist the urge to lick each inch of exposed skin. What kind of depraved thirst is that? 

I don’t know what’s come over me. I move as if possessed. I yank down the jeans over his hipbones. I feel his cock twitch when I bite at the exposed flesh of his thigh and he moans again. 

He pulls me back up for a kiss, and his tongue fights mine for dominance. He tugs on my lip with his teeth and it sends a shiver down my spine despite the heat. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” I breathe out.

“In a minute,” he assures me. 

His hands are so warm and so big and _so_ _everywhere_. The sensations are overwhelming. I’m terrified and excited for what comes next. I think I will pass out from the rapid pounding of my heart. 

I pull back again and move my fingers to the band of his underwear. I tug them down and his erection springs free. It’s so thick that I struggle to imagine how I’m going to fit it in any of the places I want it to. I definitely have a few places in mind. 

I’ve been staring too long. 

Riku props himself up again and looks at me softly. “You don’t have to do anything,” he says, lips parted, panting. As if I could deny him anything right now. The way he’s laid out before me is so... so...

—hot. 

I’ll do anything for him. 

I take him in my hand, giving a pump to test the waters. He hisses through his teeth and falls back again. I touch him the way I’ve perfected for myself over the years. He mewls and I feel him swell. 

So far, so good. 

I bend down to kiss him and he thrusts into my hand. I reach out my other hand to find his nipple again. I roll it in my fingers, and Riku’s hips buck. He curses loudly and his hands grip the couch. His eyebrows pull together elegantly as he closes his eyes and sighs my name. 

I want more of that. 

I slither down his body, leaving trails of gentle bites, until I reach his groin. I’ve never done this before either. I kiss the skin from his navel down to his silver curls and his breathing hitches. 

His eyes lock mine as I open my mouth. I take his tip in, swirling my tongue around it. At that, he really moans, eyes rolling. I lap up the beads of precome weeping out of him, considering the bitter taste. 

The sounds he makes should be illegal. I never want him to make those sounds for anyone else ever again. 

I am greedy. 

Encouraged, I lick his shaft before taking the whole thing in my mouth. His back arches, muscles twitch, and I feel his fingers in my hair, petting me. 

“Fuck, Sora,” he cries. 

My face is hot. “Keep saying my name.”

I take him in my mouth again.

“Y-yes, Sora.”

The way he says my name is driving me wild. I hollow my cheeks for him and suck. When he squirms, I grip his inner thighs, holding him in place. 

“Sor-a,” he sighs. 

His cries are intoxicating. I’m drunk on the sound. I feel like I’m going to come from that alone. His salty taste makes my mouth water. God, he hasn’t even really touched me yet. 

“So—“ he cries, unable to finish. His hands grip my hair tightly. 

“Say it,” I order him.

”Sora!” he gasps 

I could do this, listen to this, for hours, but I feel a tug on my hair. His cock pops out of my mouth with a wet sound and I look up at him for guidance. The face he is making is a crime against decency. 

He pulls me up for another kiss. If the taste of himself on my tongue bothers him, I can’t tell. 

Slim fingers skim the fabric of my shorts. 

Oh god. 

It’s really happening. 

I’m melting, melting, _melting_. 

His hand travels past the elastic band and when he palms me, I double over. The room howls with the sounds of pleasure. I’m shocked when I realize the moans echoing off the walls are in fact coming from me. 

“That’s good,” he tells me. “Just like that. Keep doing that for me.”

His words are as erotic as the feeling of him fondling me. I lean into his touch, gasping. I want more. The thought builds and builds until I practically scream—

“Riku!”

He rolls me over him and uses the space to pull off his boots and jeans from their tangle at his feet. The space between us is infuriating and my chest heaves in anticipation. Clothes tossed aside, he looks down at me. 

The sight of him completely nude in front of me takes my breath away. I don’t know where to look. I take it all in, from the silver hair framing his face, to the chiseled artistry of his arms, and then down to the beautiful curve of his thighs. I resist the urge to take him in my mouth again, though the temptation is overwhelming. 

I reach down and slough off my shorts and wait for his lead. I think if I don’t come soon that I’m going to cry. I can’t help but bring a hand down to touch myself. The wait is excruciating. I need it something now. He grabs my wrist and pries me away. 

“No,” he tells me.

Oh, god, the pressure is killing me. 

“But I need—,” I stammer out, letting the sentence stay unfinished. I’m panting, desperate. Riku traces my lips with his thumb and then parts them. 

“What do you need?” he asks calmly. “Tell me what you need.”

I take his thumb in my mouth and suck. When he pulls back, a small groan voices my protest. 

And then he’s going down to his knees and my brain ceases to function. 

Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

He takes my whole cock in his mouth at once and moans. The vibration nearly knocks me out. 

I gasp and feel my knees shake. A voice inside keeps reminding me that it’s _actually_ Riku— that’s Riku down there! Riku is _sucking you off_. Riku is using that beautiful mouth on you, just you. Goddamn wonderful, frustrating, beautiful Riku. This is actually happening. 

I can’t think straight. Everything is velvet and hot. There is no way I will ever doubt the beauty of the human tongue again.

His hands grab my ass and squeeze. I can’t contain myself anymore. The need for release tears me apart. I thrust desperately into his mouth and he takes it again and again. 

Suddenly his hands hold me firmly in place to halt my movements. I whimper in protest. Riku stands, looking deep into my eyes. He pulls me in by the back of my neck to kiss me and our cocks rub together and make us both sigh. I grind against him, starving for more contact. 

I need more. More. More. _More_. My mind goes white with desire. I know what happens next. 

I’m just not sure HOW this next part happens. 

Nervously I turn around and bend over for him, spreading myself shamefully and whimpering. I look over my shoulder at him and he licks his lips. My embarrassment is eclipsed by the pressing need to feel him. I touch myself and imagine what it’s going to feel like. If he doesn’t touch me soon I’m going to die. 

Do it now, now, now, now—

“No,” he says, which stops me. 

“Wha-?” I am mortified. I scramble upright, arms crossing defensibly. I did something wrong. I’m screwing everything up. Of course he doesn’t want to do that! Stupid, Sora, stupid! 

The pain of my pent up desire fogs my mind. I whine. He can’t stop. We can’t stop now. I need him to touch me again. 

“You don’t want to...?”

Riku reaches out and traces my jaw with his finger. He smells like heat and musk. “You’re not ready for that yet, dear.”

I whimper. The need for contact is driving me crazy. I grind against him desperately, unable to form words. Tears sting at my eyes. 

“Shhh,” he coos. “It’s alright.”

He grabs my hand and brings it down to his shaft so that I can feel his firmness. Any thoughts that he no longer wanted me fade away. 

“Now fuck me,” he demands. 

The words are a shock to the system. Hearing him say it causes my cock to twitch. 

“Sora,” he says firmly, “I need you to fuck me now. _Now_.”

I push him back onto the couch and he pulls his knees back to either side of my hips. I have a carnal need to feel him. All of him. 

I still can’t quite believe what is happening. 

I’ve never had sex with anyone before, so I’m concerned I’m going to get this wrong and I very much want to NOT get it wrong. I want Riku to keep saying my name. I want to see his eyelids flutter. I want him to feel all the things he’s making me feel. 

I just have no idea what to do. 

“Sora...” he whispers. 

I reach a hand down tentatively and circle his entrance with my index finger. The movement causes another moan to escape his lips. 

“Nn—“

I move delicately, unsure of the technique, and watch his face for clues. My finger curls inside him and his chest rises with an intake of breath. So hot. 

He’s panting and sweat beads across his chest. He grips my shoulders and nods encouragement. 

I remove my finger and give my dick a few light strokes before pressing its tip to his hole. I’m so swollen and the pressure— my god, the pressure. 

I hesitate, reading his expression. He bites his lip and presses his forehead against mine. 

I hold my breath and slide in slowly. Inch by inch he sheathes my full length and jolts of pleasure electrify me. His tightness causes my shoulders to shake. The sensation is more than I had anticipated. I’m already so close. 

“Shit,” I whisper. My whole body is shaking now. Riku wriggles beneath me lasciviously and the feeling of the movement blinds me. 

“Is this okay?” I ask, unsure. The question comes out in gasps. 

He shouts my name again, knocking me out of breath, and urges me further into him by pressing his legs firmly around my waist.

Tight. So tight. So warm. 

“More,” he commands. “More, Sora.”

I am not going to last very long if he keeps saying my name like that. 

I pump into him slowly, and each stroke drags a delicious sounding noise from Riku’s throat. The feeling is incredible and overwhelming. I had no idea it would feel like this. 

We could have been doing this this whole time?! I sigh at the missed opportunities. 

“Harder,” he tells me, and I eagerly follow his command. 

The room is filled with the sound of flesh pounding flesh, of ragged breaths, and desperate moans. 

Sweat rolls down my chest and the friction between us is gone. I hold onto Riku tightly, teeth chattering. 

“Gonna—“ I cant say it out loud. 

Riku pets my hair. The couch shakes with each thrust. I’m in so deep and the ring of muscle surrounding me tightens. Sparks, fireworks, sparkle in my vision. 

Below me I feel his hand come between us to attend to himself. He pumps in time with the press of my hips, and soon he goes rigid and shouts. 

“S-or-ahhh, ah, ah,” he cries. I don’t know how it’s possible but I feel myself getting harder and I dig my fingers into the couch. I can’t...

I can’t... stop. 

Riku arches off the couch, hot pearlescence spattering across our chests. He shakes with aftershocks of orgasm. The sight of him writhing below me pushes me over the edge. 

“Riku, I can’t— I’m going to—“ I warn. 

He grips my shoulders and presses me tight with his legs again. 

“But Riku I‘ll—“

He doesn’t budge. 

“Finish inside,” he orders. 

I feel the end rushing through me. My toes clench and eyes shut. I bite at my own shoulder to try to silence the scream that I know is coming. 

Fingers turn my face back. 

“No, look at me. I want you to look at me.”

My face is on fire. My skin tingles. I feel the pressure building to a peak. 

“I want to see your face.”

I look into his eyes and plunge into him one more time and it’s all over. I am stuffed completely to the hilt, deep inside him, when I erupt. I unload myself into him and wail out a cry of rapture. 

I fight to keep my eyes open and trained on him and he stares back intently. I keep driving into him as I ride the final waves of completion. The squelching sounds are loud and vulgar. His hands are so strong against my shoulders. 

I’m spent. 

“Ri-“ I can’t even finish the word. I collapse in his arms, still inside him. I can’t force my limbs to move. I pant against him and hide my face in the crook of his neck. 

He rubs my lower back with his hands and hums quietly. 

“Can’t... move,” I force out. “Dizzy.”

“Just give yourself a second,” he says. “It’s okay.”

We are drenched in sweat and I’m not sure how much is from the sex and how much is from the lack of air conditioning. I really want some water. I whimper and shiver. 

“You’re okay,” he says soothingly. “You’re safe.”

When his arms wrap around me, I believe him.   
  


_Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes_

_I’m not playing with you, baby_   
  
_I think that you should give it a go_   
  
_She said, "Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes_   
  
_I wanna see, and stop thinking_   
  
_If you're too shy, then let me know_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is my first attempt at writing smut.
> 
> *leaves out a platter of cookies for the 7 guest kudos as a sign of respect*
> 
> Tumblr @ borndeaddd


	7. Track 7: High Definition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riku and Sora contemplate the aftermath of their rendezvous. The gang hangs out. Kairi goes on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm super bummed out today so some reason so I was struggling to finish this chapter. I don't know if anyone is actually reading this anyway but. Yerp.
> 
> I made a Twitter -> borndeadd  
> Tumblr -> borndead

**Riku**

Sora is asleep on my chest. 

He collapsed, still inside me, and clung to me so tightly that I made no attempt to move. Something about the way he’s gripping into me reminds me of the way I clung to Vanitas. It makes me sad. 

We really should get up and at least lock the door, but I don’t have the heart to move him. Probably no one would come back at this hour anyway. 

I look down at the way he rises and falls with my every breath. His hair is sweaty, mussed, and frustratingly cute. I adjust myself into the cushions and close my eyes. 

I hope this wasn’t a bad idea. It felt like a good idea at the time. And to be honest, it feels nice to have someone hold me again. I’ve been so lonely. Is it such a crime to want to be wanted?

I run my fingers through his hair. The room smells like sex and sweat. Definitely going to need to do something about that before tomorrow...   
  


“Sora?” I say quietly. 

I can’t believe he’s actually asleep right now. What a brat. 

I need to clean myself up and my back is cramping. I’m afraid that when I move, he’ll wake up and want to talk or something. I really don’t feel like talking right now. I don’t know what I would even say to him. I have no idea what the end goal is here. I did warn him, though. 

I gently disentangle myself from him,and feel his cum leak down my leg. Ugh. 

I hop over to the storage crate where Demyx keeps extra towels for practice. Sorry, buddy, but you’re not going to want this one back. I wipe myself clean and look back over to Sora, passed out on the couch, ass exposed and that dumb red jacket just hanging off of him. Why on earth would he want to keep that thing on? It’s so fucking hot in here. 

A shower is going to feel fantastic. The thought of cool water is tantalizing. I debate leaving, but figure I should probably at least wake Sora up first. 

I scan the floor for my clothes. There is a flashing light coming from my discarded jeans. I pull out my phone. 

> **1 new notification from Kairi**
> 
> **Kairi: Where are you??? I thought you’d be back by now.**
> 
> **You: Got distracted. Be home soon.**
> 
> **Kairi: any luck?**

I look back at Sora, considering a response. I’ll tell Kairi eventually, but right now I’m too tired. I’m going to have to figure out how to explain it to her without making her worried. 

> **You: i think we figured something out.**

I grab my ocean soaked jeans and peel them on. Ew. Is there anything worse than putting on wet clothes? Everything feels heavy and sticky. While I’m putting my belt back on, I notice Sora’s eyes are open. 

“Hey,” I say. 

“Uhm,” he sits up, realizes he’s still bare-assed and tugs his jacket down in an attempt to cover himself. I almost laugh, but the sound comes out strangled. 

“Calm down, I’ve already seen everything.” I slip my shirt over my head. 

He stands and retrieves his shorts. I’m expecting him to start on some grand speech right about now, since that’s starting to be his thing. That and telling me to shut up. 

He stays quiet. 

“Are you okay?” I ask. 

He looks up and is blushing. Goddamn it. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he mutters. He corrects himself and smiles quickly. zipping up his jacket. His hair is so wild and the sheen of sweat on his brow catches the light. 

We definitely look like we just fucked. Gonna have to do something about that before I go home. 

I pull a hair band off my wrist and try to brush through my hair with my fingers. The strands are knotted and heavy with perspiration. I tie it all back and feel instantly cooler. 

“Ready to go?” I ask him. 

He nods, grabs his bag, and heads out before me. I was expecting some sort of hesitation from him, maybe clarifying questions on what the hell just happened. 

But but this will be less complicated than I thought. 

When we get outside, he shoulders his bag and clears his throat. “I’m this way,” he points behind him. He’s avoiding my eyes for the most part, but chances a look that betrays the coolness he’s trying to muster. 

“Yeah,” I say. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

### 

I walk into the apartment quietly. If I’m lucky, I can make it to my room and into the shower before Kairi has a chance to intervene. 

“Hey!” am excited voice calls out. 

Well, so much for that. 

“Hey,” I say, dropping my wallet and keys on the table. “What’s up?”

She’s sitting at the counter, legs swinging idly as she clicks away at her computer. “Just doing some snooping.” She has a bowl of popcorn beside her, and she reaches in for a handful. 

I walk closer and peek at her screen. “Snooping about what?” I reach over her to steal some of her snack. 

She finally notices me and raises an eyebrow. “Uh, first off, what is up with _you_? You’re all... wet and... dude, you smell terrible.” Her nose crinkles. She smacks my hand away when I reach for another helping of popcorn. 

“You left us in an air conditioned room in the middle of a heat wave, what do you expect?” I rub my hand dramatically in mock agony. 

She’s trying not to laugh at me. “Ugh, I hope Axel gets that fixed.” She turns back to the computer and shows me an article that includes an excerpt from one of our interviews. “I’ve been reading through some online forums, trying to get some honest opinions about the band. I kind of went down a rabbit hole though and... anyway, Riku, you are REALLY popular.”

“Wha-?” 

She nods and clicks through to a comment thread and holds the laptop up to me. 

I scan through quickly. 

“Yeah, you’ve totally got a lot of fans! They’ve even got a name for themselves already!”

“A name? Are you serious?”

She points to the screen and snorts. “They call the fandom Kingdom Hearts,” she manages to get out. “Since we’re the Heartless and they love you... they named themselves...” She laughs so hard her eyes tear up. 

“Oh, shut up. Isn’t this a good thing?”

She calms down and wipes a tear from her eye. “I have no idea, but it sure is _entertaining_. Riku, you’ve got fan art!”

I do not particularly enjoy the sound of that. 

“Think you can handle being a celebrity? Ready or not! You might even give Vanitas a run for—“ she stops short.

The mention of his name is like pressing down on a bruise. The black hole in my chest won’t stop sucking up every bit of good around me. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, touching my arm. 

My throat feels tight and I can’t make the words come out. I feel guilty and... wrong. My insides are hollow. 

Despite the dampness, Kairi grabs my waist and squeezes tightly. She always knows when I need a hug the most. I really don’t know how she does it. 

I kiss the top of her head and hold her back briefly. 

“It’s fine. I need to change though.”

She smiles and blows me a kiss. 

I don’t know how I lucked out finding her. I really don’t think I’d have made it this long without her. 

* * *

**Kairi**

> **You: Hey there**
> 
> **Sora: hi, what’s up?**
> 
> **You: just checking in. How was writing?**
> 
> **Sora: fine.**

I wait for the the bubble to pop up telling me that he’s typing more, but it doesn’t come. Weird. Sora isn’t one for single word replies. Maybe he’s busy?

> **You: What did you end up doing? Go anywhere cool?**
> 
> **Sora: just walked the beach and went back.**

Well, that probably explains why Riku was all wet. 

> **You: If the air conditioning is out tomorrow, we won’t be able to practice. If that happens, want to come over here to work?**

A few minutes pass before he finally responds.

> **Sora: yeah, okay.**

* * *

**Sora**

I walk home as the sun is setting and my head is reeling the entire time. I feel like a different person. Changed, somehow. 

I try to force the memory of what just happened down until I can get home and process everything. This was not how I expected today to go. This morning I woke up agonizing over how to best stare at Riku without being too obvious and now I’ve been inside of him. 

I need a shower. And sleep. 

The walk back doesn’t take too long. The night is alive with the sound of crickets and glow of fireflies. Something in my chest swells when I reach the gate. For the first time in a while I feel... content. Really, truly, content. 

When I get inside, Selphie is in the kitchen reading and alarm bells go off. “What’s wrong?”

I startle her. “Oh— hi Sora. Nothing’s wrong, I must have just lost track of time.” She shuts her book quietly. “I’m sorry I scared you. I just enjoy getting out of my house and it’s so relaxing here. Nora already went to bed. We stayed up playing cards and then she let me borrow this book and—“

I sit down across from her at the table. “Sorry for freaking out.” If I’m going to be honest, I feel guilty. I should be the one here with my grandmother every day, not her. 

She waves me off nonchalantly. “Don’t worry. I’m the one who overstayed my welcome.”

“Selphie, this is practically your home too. You spend just as much time here as I do. You’re always welcome here.” She hums in appreciation. 

Selphie props her head in her hands and studies me. “You okay?”

“What?”

She tilts her head. “I don’t know. We haven’t had much time to talk lately and you seem... different. What have you been up to lately?”

I fill her in on my new “job” working with the band and her eyes sparkle. 

“Sora! That is _amazing_! I told you your writing was excellent!” She claps her hands softly and beams at me. Her excitement is contagious and I feel myself smiling back at her, despite hesitations about my work. 

“Enough about me though, what have you been up to?”

She sits back and shrugs. “You know me. I work from home so most days I don’t even leave the house. If it weren’t for Nora, I’d probably hardly see anyone.”

“You’re definitely an honorary grandchild,” I tell her. 

She smiles again. “Does this me make your big sister now?”

I consider. “Hm. I guess so. Think you’re up for the job?”

“I’ve been training since we were 10!”

“Consider yourself hired.”

The clock in the hallway begins its toll and Selphie sits up straighter, obviously panicked. “I had no idea it was getting so late! I need to get home! If I don’t go to sleep soon, I’m going to be a zombie tomorrow.” She stands, grabs her book and touches my shoulder. “It was nice to catch up. Let’s do it again soon, okay?”

I nod. “Of course. Maybe you could come to one of our next shows? Good excuse to get out of the house.”

She hops excitedly from one foot to the other. That is one thing I most admire about her— her ability to feel genuine joy at even the smallest things. “Yes! I’d love to!”

“I’ll let you know the details then.”

With that, we share a brief hug and she lets herself out. I watch from the window to make sure she safely reaches her door. When she is inside, she waves again from her living room, and then shuts her curtains. 

This place is starting to feel more and more like home. I hadn’t really considered moving back off the island or anything, but lately I’m feeling myself rooted to this place. I don’t think I want to leave again. 

I peek into Gran’s room and her dog lazily lifts his head at the intrusion but otherwise all reminds still. Her quiet breathing is the only sound save for the clicking of the hall clock. 

I retreat quietly to shower. Stripping off the day’s grime feels fantastic. Between the ocean, the heat, and... _Riku_... I feel like I need to scrub myself clean. The water is refreshing and makes me feel a million times better. I'm so much more human. 

The water streams down my body and I try not to let myself think too much about what happened today. I want to save that for when I’m finally in bed, in the dark, where it is quiet and I can really think. Where I can process that this is real. My heart pounds in anticipation.

The faucet squeaks off and I towel myself dry. My body is mostly obscured in the mirror by the steam clouding the room. I wipe at the glass and am faced with my reflection. My eyes stare back, bright blue and ringed with exhaustion. The person before me collides with the memory of Riku’s flawless body, and I feel deeply unworthy of his affection. I am retroactively embarrassed that I allowed him to see me naked. My hair is too long, hanging into my eyes, torso slim and undefined, and of course, the monstrosity which is my left arm. 

I hold up my wrist and inspect the pattern of silvery scars raised in stark contrast with my tanned skin. As the marks travel higher and they become more warped, puckered, and red. The skin at my shoulders is still dark purple and the skin depresses where sutures once held me together. 

This is why I can’t let Riku see all of me. If he could see me like this, he would be repulsed, or _worse_ , look at me with _pity_. 

This is why I have to wear these stupid jackets in the tropical island heat. This is why I have to hide myself away. 

I’ve tried to forgo my standard long-sleeved uniform but the scars prompt too many curious stares and uncomfortable questions. Aside from that, there’s the fact that the arm is just plain hideous. Absolutely hideous. It is simpler to pretend like I'm not some kind of weird mutant-looking burn victim.

Not only has my physical body been maimed, but the lasting trauma associated with the injury’s origin and subsequent ogling by the masses has left me emotionally scarred as well. It’s six months since I was plowed into by a careless driver, and the memory of the flames and glass is still as fresh in my mind as if it were yesterday. 

I really shouldn’t complain. I was lucky. Other than a few broken bones, concussion, 3rd degree burns, and obviously permanent scarring (physical and otherwise), I am able to live as if nothing had happened. The other driver can’t. The memory of their body crumpled on the road still frequents my nightmares. 

I think of all the things I could be— should be— doing with this second chance at life and am filled with shame. 

I should be grateful I’m alive but I just feel unworthy. I’m embarrassed about my body, but I still HAVE a body. I’m ashamed at my vanity, at my need for perfection. I don’t like the person looking back at me in the mirror. He’s got nothing to show for his existence other than some emo poetry and (apparently) depressing songs. 

I sigh. Enough self loathing for tonight. I turn off the light, return to my room, and find peace in the dark cocoon of sheets. I wriggle myself in and the springs of the bed squeak with the movement. The room is bathed in the soft blue tones of midnight, and despite the tranquility, I have trouble getting myself to wind down. 

I toss and turn, exhausted but unable to turn my thoughts off enough to fall asleep. I can feel myself blushing as I remember the feel of Riku beneath me, the way he spoke my name. The thought of seeing him tomorrow— well, I guess today now— is thrilling. 

Will he look at me differently? Will he want to kiss again? I want to kiss him again. 

I turn to the other side. 

Riku’s face is imprinted on the back of my eyelids. I wonder if he’s thinking about me right now. I wonder what he’s doing right now. The butterflies in my stomach remind me of schoolyard crushes— the sweet agony of trying to read deeper meanings out of simple gestures as clues toward true feelings. 

With sudden clarity, it occurs to me that these are the hallmark musings of someone deeply infatuated. I’d toyed with the idea of what it may be like to _kiss_ Riku, even considered how it may feel to _flirt_ less covertly, but not anything deeper than that. 

I groan and pull a pillow over my eyes, blocking out the moonlight. Out loud to no one, I say, “Oh, my god, I think I like him.”

* * *

**Axel**

This schedule is fucked this week. They can’t repair the air conditioning for at least a few days, and as annoying as it is, there is just no way to practice all day in a room like that. It’s got me all irritated and biting at my fingernails. 

Kairi insists we take this time as a group to bond. Truth be told, we haven’t been hanging out much lately— at least, not like before. Our group used to be inseparable, the five of us spending hours lazing about town and playing video games. Then Vanitas left and everything went to shit. 

I’m still mad, but I can’t really blame him. He did what we all would do, albeit perhaps with a little bit too much added theatrics, but, hey, that’s just Vanitas. 

The whole thing got really screwed up when he dumped Riku. The dynamic of the group really shifted. By default, I had to side with Riku, because he was the only person left to sing. It sucks having to pick sides when friends drift apart. It feels like my parents got divorced and now I have to live two completely different lives around each of them while simultaneously not bringing up their ex-beau.

I don’t bother knocking and let myself into Riku and Kairi’s place. Kairi is busy in the kitchen, preparing something. 

“Hey,” I tell her. 

She looks up and smiles. “Hiya. You’re just in time to help me make pizza!”

I toss my jacket onto the back of a chair and cross my arms. “I thought this was strictly a movie marathon bonding hang out. You didn’t say anything about cooking.”

She makes an exasperated sound and throws a pepperoni at my face. She misses and it lands on the counter. I pick it up and toss it in my mouth. 

“I’m just asking you to put your toppings on it, jerk.”

“Eh, surprise me.” I turn to the couch and spot Riku already brooding on one end. Sora is sitting on the opposite side, notebook balanced on his knees, concentrating as he scribbles something down. 

“Hey, guys,” I say. 

Sora looks up, startled, and waves a hand before going back to his work. Riku nods at me and turns back to the television. Some old black and white horror movie is playing on the screen. A woman screams and falls into the arms of a vampire. 

I jump over the back of the couch and land between the two. “So what are we watching?”

“Dracula,” Riku says, turning the volume up. 

Behind us, pans clatter as Kairi loads pizzas into the oven. There is a quick knock, and then Demyx enters without waiting to actually be invited in. 

“Boys!” he shouts. 

“Excuse me?” Kairi says. 

Demyx grins sheepishly. “Aw, come on, you’re one of the boys by now.” 

She huffs, irritated, but lets it drop. 

I kick back and prop my feet up on the coffee table. There’s a weird vibe in the room but I can’t quite place it. 

“So how’s the writing going, fellas?” 

Sora looks up again and stretches. “I’ve got some new stuff written down for us to try next practice. I’m struggling with a few lines, but hopefully talking it over will help.”

Riku yawns. “I’ll read it later.”

“Fine, fine.”

Kairi walks over and sits on the ground at Riku’s feet and Demyx sprawls out on an old green chair. 

“So we doin’ this or not?” Demyx asks. 

Riku hands then remote to Kairi. She pushes a few buttons and then the menu screen of the latest horror action flick pops up. I haven’t seen this yet, but I think it should be pretty good. 

As usual, we spend the entire moving talking and eating. Demyx tries to do voice-overs of the main character so that they sound like Riku. Riku retaliates by making the villain sound like Demyx. Kairi tells us all to shush and Sora just laughs. 

At some point during the second movie, some old 90’s thing about ghosts or something, I notice Riku snoring. His head lolls to one side, and then the other. I chuckle and poke at his arm, but he stays asleep. I turn to Sora to show him Riku’s lack of hangout spirit, but he’s curled into a pillow, asleep too. 

“Check out these guys,” I say. 

Kairi and Demyx look back and laugh. 

“Guess movie day is over,” Demyx says. 

Kairi turns the volume down and stretches her legs out. “I’ve gotta run soon anyway.”

“Big date?” I ask.

“As a matter of fact,” she says haughtily, “ _yes_.”

“Whoa!” Demyx cheers. 

“C’mon, it’s not that weird.”

“Kind of. I can’t remember you ever dating anyone,” I think out loud. “Didn’t think you were the type.”

She puffs her cheeks out angrily. “Shows what you know. We are going to that cute little cafe on the boardwalk for dessert.” 

“Uh-kay then. Don’t stay out too late, missy.”

“Anyway,” she sneers at me, “I need to get ready. You two hold down the fort.” 

She retreats to her room, and Demyx makes a grab for the spare gaming controller on the coffee table. 

“Yo, wanna play a round?”

I shrug. “Eh, sure.”

We play through a few levels of an old arcade fighting game and Demyx kicks my ass each time. He actually knows the buttons to push, as opposed to my frantic smashing. By the 5th round of losing, I’m totally over it. 

“No more. I’m done.”

Demyx deflates. “Aw, man.”

“Whatcha aw-mannin’ about?” I hear Kairi say from behind us. I turn to say something and am taken aback by her look. I’ve seen Kairi thousands of times, hanging out, shopping, practice, shows, but never quite like this. She’s usually got a kind of scrappy energy to her, but tonight it’s just all... sweet. 

_Weird_. 

“What do you think?” she asks, giving a twirl. She’s wearing a quintessential Kairi-pink-colored dress, but has topped it off with a white sweater and hair bow. 

“Are you auditioning for little-bo-peep?”

She glowers at me. “Well, you weren’t my first choice to ask for opinions anyway, but Riku is apparently comatose. Demyx?”

I glance over and he’s beaming. The simpleton. 

“Knock ‘em dead.”

“Thank you, DEMYX,” she emphasizes. She checks her watch and moves to grab a bag hanging on a wall hook near the door. “You guys good if I head out?”

“Eh, these lamers are already asleep so I think I’ll follow you,” Demyx replies. 

I yawn. “Me too in a few. Just need to use the bathroom.”

Kairi bows mockingly and then heads out the door followed by Demyx. When I stand, the couch cushions shift and Riku falls over onto Sora’s hip. I snicker and pull out my phone for a picture. 

_Snap_. 

I head to the bathroom expecting the loud noises of doors opening and shutting would wake up the sleeping beauties, but when I return, they haven’t budged. Damn, they must be really worn out. I switch off the lights and make my way to the door. 

Nearing the counter, a blinking light catches my eye. Kairi forgot her phone. 

I grumble at the idea of tracking her down (that’s Riku’s job) but knowing she’s out with some rando with no way to call for help doesn’t sit right with me. 

I slip my jacket on and shove her phone into my pocket. Guess I’m crashing a date. 

_I like you inconveniently_

_You're squeezing out my dopamine_

_Yeah, you like me in spite of me_

_I feel these feelings quietly_

_You're cool but inconvenient_

_Now my energy's depleted_

_Take a seat, babe, if you need it_

_Like I do 'cause I'm defeated_

_Now I'm cancelled, I'm whatever_

_I'm the best thing that you'll never have_

_Now I'm lonely_

_Yeah, if only I could text you_

_But I'm holding out_

_I'd love to be in love with you enough to write a love song_

_I need to feel needed and I need it more than I let on_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is by Waterparks.


	8. Track 8: (Not) Ready to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s movie night for the band. Kairi goes on a date. Riku and Sora have a slumber party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just know that I refresh the statistics on this fic million times a day and literally cry when someone cares enough to read, bookmark, or leave a Kudo. n-e-way, that’s all just to say I love ya
> 
> *makes you a mixed-tape with all ur fav love songs*
> 
> Twitter -> borndeadd  
> Tumblr -> borndeaddd
> 
> There is a Punk Riku illustration on the tumbly

**Riku**

  
I wake up disoriented with an aching neck. A groan escapes my mouth as I roll over in the darkness. Groggily, I try to figure out why I’m so uncomfortable. 

As my eyes adjust, I take in the ceiling fan in the living room. Oh yeah, movie night. 

I tilt my head back and see Sora, writing on the arm of the couch. My head is in his lap, and his hand is absently stroking my head. 

I scramble to sit up, and he looks over. 

“Good morning,” he says. “Or... good night?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time. It’s late. I lean back on my hand, propping my body upright. 

“You can... lay on me if you want,” he says shyly. 

Jesus Christ. Does he have to look all bashful like that? 

I lean back down and get comfortable on his lap. He continues stroking my hair away from my face. His fingers are cool and steady. It feels nice. 

“What are you working on?” I ask, looking up at him in the darkness. 

“Oh, just had some song ideas I wanted to get down.”

“Why didn’t you turn on a light?”

He shrugs, tosses his notebook on the coffee table and then leans back. “I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

“Well, thanks.”

“No problem,” he yawns. 

“Do you know when everyone left?”

“No, I fell asleep too. I didn’t sleep well last night,” he confesses. 

I point my toes, stretching, and yawn. “Why’s that?”

He pauses and looks toward the blank television screen. The light from a passing car’s headlight slashes across the room and catches his face. His brows are furrowed.

“I was thinking about you,” he tells me tentatively. 

Oh. 

My heart flutters. It is simultaneously flattering and terrifying, but I’m afraid he’s pushing things too quickly. How can he just _SAY_ things like that?

“Sora,” I warn. 

“I know, I know,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. 

As an apology, I reach up and grab his wrist and bring it back to my head. He resumes petting my hair. 

“It’s just... I know you don’t want more,” he looks down at me, “right now, but I can’t help the way I feel. Is it so bad that I—“

“Sora, don’t,” I interrupt. 

He sighs and stares up at the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I wish I wanted more, but I just don’t feel that way. I care about you. I like whatever it is we are doing, but I just can’t let feelings get wrapped up into this.”

“Right...”

“I don’t know if I’m _capable_ of loving someone again,” I admit. “My sense of self-preservation is too strong to want to risk it. Relationships complicate things— they make everything messy. I don’t want the headache.”

He hums, still not looking down at me. 

“If you want to be done, I understand. No hard feelings.”

That gets his attention. He scowls. “You might be scared, but I’m not. Great risks come with great rewards.”

I chuckle. “Yeah and violent delights have violent ends.” I feel my features soften as I look at him. “I don’t want to hurt you, you know? You’re a good person.”

“And you aren’t?”

I’m not sure. 

“You are, Riku.”

“You don’t know me that well yet.”

He ruffles my hair. “I know you well enough, I think. And you’ve basically read my diary so I think you know me too.”

“Your diary?”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Okay, journal. Whatever. You know the parts of me I don’t advertise to the world.”

“To be fair, you kind of do now considering they’re going to be on the radio.”

He makes an exasperated face. “You know what I mean! I may write them in secret, but I write them for you to sing now. _You_ , not anyone else.”

His sincerity kind of hurts. 

“Would you even be doing this if you weren’t totally obsessed with me?” I joke. 

He flicks my nose lightly. “Probably not. But who knows? I am and I’m doing it now.”

We sit in silence for a while, his hands massaging my scalp. 

“So since you think I don’t know enough to be completely turned off by you, why don’t you tell me about yourself?” he asks. 

“What do you want to know?”

He pauses, then, “Everything. Tell me everything. How old are you? What’s your favorite color? Do you have brothers or sisters? Where did you grow up?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa slow down. One at a time.”

His laugh sound the way sliding into a hot bath after a long day feels. 

I try to remember his first question. 

“I’m twenty-five,” I tell him. 

“Oh, you’re a year older than me.”

“What’s next?”

“Favorite color?”

I tell him it is blue, but that’s just because I can’t seem to think of any other color when I’m looking at him. 

“What’s yours?”

“Yellow,” he answers quickly. “Definitely yellow.”

“Of course,” I say thinking about the busted yellow shoes he wears everywhere. 

“Do you have siblings?”

“No. You?”

“Nope.” He curls over a little so that our faces are closer. “Did you grow up here?”

“Yes. I’ve never really left.”

“I grew up on the mainland. I don’t think I’ll go back though.”

“Why’s that?”

He bites his lip and looks back at the ceiling. “Here just feels like home now.”

We sit in silence for a moment, but I figure it’s probably my turn to ask a question. “Am I really the first guy you’ve kissed?”

His head whips down, then his chin juts to the side. “Among... other things.”

Oh. 

Well, I guess I had figured. “In that case, sorry I had to be your first.”

“I’m not. Why do you talk about yourself like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re sorry for existing.”

I’m not sure. 

“I... don’t know. Habit, I guess?”

He pokes me affectionately. “You should stop. I happen to enjoy you.”

I snort. “Yeah, you made that pretty clear yesterday.”

His cheeks flare red and it makes me laugh more. 

“S-shut up!”

I sit up and twist around to face him. “Sora, are you... being _shy_?” I can’t resist the urge to tease him. He makes it so easy. 

He crosses his arms. 

“It’s cute,” I tell him. So cute, in fact, that I wrap an arm around his shoulders. My laugh comes out soft and warm. 

“Just wait,” he proclaims, “one day you’re going to be obsessed with me. Then we will see what’s so funny.”

I look down at my knees, unsure what to say. I don’t want to be obsessed with anyone but Vanitas. His teasing, his body curled up next to me on the couch, that is what I want. Anyone else seems like a pale imitation. 

But I don’t want to tell Sora that. 

It’s not leading him on if I told him not to expect anything from me, right? I don’t want Sora to pull away because whatever this is— it is a nice distraction. I don’t want him to fall in love with me or anything either though. 

“Riku,” he starts, “could you... tell me about Vanitas?”

My blood turns to ice. I pull away my arm from his shoulders, shocked into silence. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes. 

I don’t want to talk about this. 

Sora tries to stifle a yawn, which prompts me to reluctantly as well. 

“Let’s call it a day,” I tell him, ending the conversation. 

He avoids my eyes and shoves his hands into his giant hoodie. He looks comically small and subsequently young wrapped up like that. 

“Yeah. Guess so.” 

Another passing car provides momentary illumination and we rise. He raises his arm to the ceiling, stretching, before turning to the door. 

“Hey, where are you going?”

He freezes and turns around quickly. 

“Home?”

I don’t want to be alone. 

I close the space between us and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing a cheek to the top of his head. “Well that seems silly considering the hour and the fact there is a perfectly fine place for you here.”

I can feel him try to look up at me. 

“Really?”

I pull back. “Unless you don’t want to.” 

A smile tugs at his lips and it makes my heart hurt. He’s just so damn transparent. Unlike me, he doesn’t hide anything he’s feeling. His feelings for me are clearly written on his face, and I feel guilty not being able to reciprocate. This kind of blatant adoration is addicting, and I’m going to abuse it like a drug. He burns me like the sun. 

The disappointing truth is that despite the neck cramp, the nap on the couch next to him was the best I’ve slept in weeks. Selfishly, I imagine a long night’s rest with him will significantly improve my insomnia. I imagine waking up without these dark circles, without wanting to drink gallons of coffee. 

It doesn’t have anything to do with romance or flirting (even though the flirting is fun); I just want to rest beside him. The space left by Vanitas in my heart isn’t ready to be replaced. Sora may be beside me, but I’m still dreaming about V. 

“Well, okay then. I’ll stay.”

I grab his hand and lead him through the dark. 

* * *

**Axel**

  
I wanted to go home and laze around but instead I’ve been wandering around the boardwalk for nearly 20 minutes already trying to find the stupid cafe. She couldn’t just say it’s name, could she? Ugh. 

Most of the shops are already closed, their windows shuttered, hiding touristy island merch and overpriced sunglasses. The soles of my boots echo hollowly off the ground. 

There are several bars open, their music flooding out onto the planks, and a few of the especially overpriced bistros illuminating the empty path with romantic mood lighting. The air is salty and perpetually smells like candy. 

What a cliche spot for a date. How unoriginal is this guy?

I’m about to give up looking for the damn spot and just go back to Kairi’s house when my eye catches a little cafe decked out in 1950’s platitudes and pastel colors. A 24-hour neon sign buzzes in the door. I press my hands to the window and look in. 

It’s pretty empty. A few obviously tipsy youngsters and a family with two shall children crowd in booths in the front. In the back, I spy Kairi’s unmissable red hair. 

“ _Finally_ ,” I say, walking inside and waving off a server. 

I walk to the table and upon closer inspection notice Kairi slumped over, alone, and... crying?

“‘Sup?” I ask, sliding into the chair across from her. 

She looks up, startled, her eyes puffy and red, her nose runny and pink. “What are you doing here?” She ducks her head and tries to wipe the wetness away. 

I slap the phone down on the table and she makes a point to dig through her purse, trying to prove she didn’t forget her damn phone. 

“I didn’t even notice,” she says at last. 

“Yeah, well, figured you might need it.”

She dabs at her eyes, trying to avoid the makeup she so carefully put on. So she’s just going to keep hiding her face and pretending she isn’t full of snot and tears?

“So... you okay? What happened?”

She sniffles. “Nothing happened.”

“Huh?”

She sinks lower in her chair and wraps her cardigan tightly around her. “He didn’t show up.”

Ah. 

“Oh, well, uh...” I’m not good at comforting. My first reaction is to pat her head and coddle with a ‘there, there’ but I think she would kick me in the dick if I tried that with her. “His loss,” I finally decide on. 

She looks off into the distance, wiping at her eyes. “I’m stupid. I can’t believe I’m crying.”

I shrug. “S’not stupid. You were excited.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. 

I don’t like mopey Kairi. I need to snap her out of it. 

“Well, you’re all pretty tonight, so it’d be shame to just waste all that effort,” I say, thinking out loud. “Why don’t we order some dessert instead?”

Her head whips back to me and her eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What?”

I take off my jacket and wave at a waiter. “You got a problem with that?”

“Uh...” she trails off as menus are placed in front of us. 

I don’t even like sweets— they give me a headache. I scan down the laminated paper looking for anything palatable. 

Kairi studies me and then smacks the menu down with a slap and smirks. “Wait. Did you call me pretty?” 

I narrow my eyes at her, bored. “I said _your dress_ is pretty.”

“No you didn’t.”

I look back down at the menu and turn it over to inspect the other confections. “So what if I did?”

Silence. 

I look up and she’s leaning her head in her hand and drawing a finger through condensation on her water glass. “Just nice of you.”

“I’m a nice guy,” I clarify. 

She rolls her eyes at me. “And so humble.”

“You said it.”

She groans but I see the hint of a smile on her face. 

That’s better. 

The waiter arrives and takes our orders. Kairi decides on a banana split and I pick a bacon donut because what the actual fuck is that?

“So what’s dickhead’s name?”

She scoffs. “Isa.”

“That’s a stupid name,” I confirm. 

“Says the guy who goes by Axel— isn’t that a little contrived?”

I scowl at her. “You know that isn’t my name.”

“Isn’t it?”

“ _Seriously_?”

“What? I’m not the one who knew you in school.” She looks off in the distance. “Wonder what a little high school Axel was like...”

“Lea,” I say quietly. “My first name is Lea.”

She looks at me, surprised. “Lea?”

“Yeah, so what?” I respond defensively. 

Just then the food arrives, and the dish they put in front of Kairi can only be described as colossal. 

“How many people are supposed to eat that thing?”

Kairi turns the dish around to inspect the whole monstrosity. “You have to help.”

“No fuckin’ way. I hate that stuff.”

She picks off a cherry, bites the fruit, and tosses the stem at my face. It lands in my hair and I comb through to try to find it. 

“Come on, I don’t want to waste it.”

“I got this thing,” I say, indicating my much smaller plate. “Isn’t that good enough?”

“Mm— nope!” She sniffles a little, mostly just a residual tic from before, but it’s enough to make me feel bad again. 

“Ugh, fine.” 

She digs into the ice cream, making sure to grab as many flavor atrocities as she can. She holds the spoon out to me. “Here,” she says. 

“What?”

She wiggles the spoon a little. Is she fucking serious? She’s going to feed me now? Goddamn it. 

“Seriously?”

She raises an eyebrow, daring me. 

I stand up slightly to lean across the table, propped on my forearms for balance. Reluctantly, I open my mouth and Kairi slides the spoon in. I grimace at the taste and she smiles victoriously. 

“Happy?” I say, sitting down. 

The way she is smiling, she doesn’t even have to confirm. 

She’s so annoying. 

“Thank you, Lea.”

* * *

**Sora**  
  


Riku sleeps with the radio on. The volume is low enough that the words are mostly obscured. The bass only gives the vague impression of melody. If I close my eyes, it kind of sounds like a heartbeat. 

His quilt is old and worn so that it has a deliciously soft feel to it. I pull it up to my chin and stare at the ceiling. 

Riku also sleeps shirtless. This has kept me awake long after he has fallen asleep. His arm is carelessly thrown over my stomach and the heat of him scrambles my brain. I’m glad he’s asleep so that he can’t feel the way my heart is fluttering. 

The glow from the balcony is enough to study him in the darkness. His eyelashes cast long shadows across the planes of his face. I’m still not sure how someone so beautiful 1) exists and 2) wants anything to do with me. The wonderment of the thoughts is erased when his voices echoes in my mind:

  
_“I_ _wish I wanted more, but I just don’t feel that way. I care about you. I like whatever it is we are doing, but I just can’t let feelings get wrapped up into this. I don’t know if I’m capable of loving someone again.”_

  
My stomach drops. It’s only a matter of time before he calls off this arrangement. I’m not looking forward to that. There’s so much I still want to do with him. There so much I want to learn. I want to hear him sing, I want to watch him play music. I want to kiss him again. I want him to touch me again. I want him to _forget about Vanitas._

The name conjures distorted ugly images of the gloriously dark and handsome demon. 

I spent the better half of a day on the internet looking him up after he was first brought up in conversation. The local chat boards provided a bountiful supply of gossip and photos. I even bought his album, just to figure out what’s so great about his songs. 

I have to admit, they’re pretty catchy. It makes me hate him more. Why does he get to be glamorous and talented? 

I don’t understand the resemblance Riku and Kairi see between us. Maybe the nose? No, impossible. 

I can’t compete with his memory. I’ve never been particularly competitive but something about Vanitas awakens a jealous rage I’ve never experienced before. I don’t want to share Riku, especially with an asshole who ghosted him. How am I going to put up a fight? 

My chest aches at the thought of Riku moving on with someone else. I don’t want anyone else to see the way he curls his fingers in his sleep or feel his arms around them in the dark. 

Wow. I really _do_ like him. 

I sigh quietly and close my eyes. I try to focus on the feeling of his body wrapped around me, on the sound of his breath and the white noise of the radio. I turn to face him and bury my face in his chest. In his sleep, he hugs me tighter. 

I want to stay like this forever. 

###

A soft pressure on my throat wakes me. 

The light streaming in from the window keeps my eyes shut. I feel hair brush across my face and I inhale the woodsy scent of Riku. My heart leaps, and I can’t help but smile. 

“Look who’s finally awake,” a deep voice grumbles. 

I keep my eyes shut, enjoying the attention. His lips press against my neck slowly. The feeling of his exhale tickles and I laugh reflexively. 

“Tickles,” I stammer. 

Riku chuckles and does it again. He blows on my neck for good measure and I tug up the neck of my hoodie to block his access. My smile is so big that it hurts. In the darkness of the cloth, my eyes flicker open and try to adjust to the brightness of morning.

“Come back here,” he says, pulling at the sweatshirt. 

I pop my head out and squint into the light. The sight of him just waking, his hair a mess, is endearing. I study the ink marks across his chest and trace a finger across them. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Morning.”

My fingers trail down, following vines of black roses and thorns to his lower abdomen. His breath hitches. 

“What are you doing?”

I glance up at him, then sit up, pulling the quilt down so I can inspect the rest of him. “Getting a better look at you.”

He shifts uncomfortably and his pants pull deliciously low on his hips. In the shadow of his Adonis belt, I spy a splotch of darkness and lean closer to inspect. 

“Is that...?”

He pushes my forehead away and tugs his pajama bottoms up. I try to stifle a laugh. 

“Can it,” he warns. 

“Do you have a tattoo...”

“Sora,” he says slowly. 

“... _of Mickey Mouse?_ ”

The cold look he gives me makes me laugh harder. 

He sits up and glares. 

“Aw, are you not used to being the one teased?”

The line of his mouth twitches angrily, which pries more laugher out of my mouth. 

“You can dish it but you cant take it. Aw, big badass Riku has a little Mickey Mouse tattoo!”

“You finished yet?”

“Ha— nope!” I dive toward him and try to peel the fabric away from his hips. I just want to see it one more time to make sure it is real. It’s too good to be true. 

He snatches my fingers away and pulls me toward him. I fall into his chest and he holds me there firmly. “Stop being a brat.”

“Make me!” My shoulders shake with the effort of holding back laughter. 

I feel Riku lift my face and the intensity of his green eyes quiets me. He leans close, tantalizingly close, and a blossom of desire opens in my chest. 

“Oh...” is all I can think to say. All mirth is gone. 

He closes his eyes and kisses my mouth lazily. A content noise betrays my lack of immunity to his ministrations. 

“What was that you were laughing about, now?”

“Huh?” My thoughts are silenced by the feel of his hands cupping my jaw.   
  
He laughs this time and sits back, smirking. “Too easy,” he says. 

I pout and throw up my hood, pulling the drawstrings tight to block much of my face. “No fair.”

My mouth is still exposed and he gives another quick peck before pushing me back on the bed. I fall back easily and try to keep from smiling. I feel him toss the covers over me, and I roll slightly as his weight shifts and he leaves the mattress. 

I pull back my hood and look over at him. He’s over at his stereo, fiddling with some buttons, but I can’t focus on anything other than the wide expanse of his back and the way his pants hang low enough to jog my memory of what lies beneath. 

Shit. 

I feel myself harden. 

I try to think about something else—anything else— but I keep remembering his mouth on my...

 _Shit_. 

He looks over and cocks his head, a cd in his hands. “What’s wrong with you?”

I take a deep breath and brush my hair out of my race. “Nothing at all.” My voice breaks, and I cough to try to cover it up. 

“You look pissed,” he says. 

I sit up. “No, just still waking up.”

He shrugs and turns the volume up on the stereo. As he stretches and yawns, and the music swells. I watch the way his muscles move under his skin, the way the sunlight makes his hair metallic. 

“Come here,” he says. 

I hesitate. If I stand up now, not even the baggy sweatshirt is going to hide the tent in my pants. My ears burn. I hope my face doesn’t betray my arousal.

“I’m good here.”

A playful smile tugs at his face and he turns to me, crossing his arms over his chest. He licks his upper lip, I’m sure, just to tease me. I’m angry that it works. 

“ _You_ can come _here_ ,” I tell him. 

He arches a brow and his smirk deepens. He walks over infuriatingly slowly, swaying his head in time with the music a little, taking his time. 

I can’t look away. 

Shit. 

When he’s at the edge of the bed, he places his hands on either side of me and bends forward forcing my back against the sheets. 

“Okay, I’m here.”

Is he...? I can’t think straight. 

I place my fingers on his chest and let them explore. His stomach twitches the closer I get to his waistband. 

“So _where_ am I coming again?” he teases. 

My mouth drops open, floundering. I feel my pants constricting me and I want to arch against him but manage to hold myself back. 

My fingers rub against his groin, feeling for a sign that he’s being serious. 

Oh, he’s definitely serious. 

I can’t take it anymore. I pull him down to kiss deeply. 

This is going to be a very good morning. 

  
_There's a hundred different reasons I'll run, I'll run_  
_So that's what I've been feeling for everyone_  
_And I know I had you used to the nights_  
_When you'd be by my side_  
_Now if only I had you without wondering why_  
_All the loose in my life_  
_All the you's that I tried_  
_And it's not that I can't it's just_  
_I'm not ready to love_  
_But I won't be too long_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahahahaha yeah get ready for more smut next chapter wtf
> 
> Song is by Emarosa


	9. Track 9: Chemicals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riku and Sora have a pretty good morning together until they don’t

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another skippable smut chapter. So... Cw: fuckin’ and angst
> 
> I dedicate this to user chickenstriiips bc I love you for leaving the first comment I’ve ever received. ♥

**Riku**

The way he’s been able to attune to my body so quickly keeps surprising me. It’s like he’s been studying me for years, cramming all the things that hitch my breath into his brain so that he’s ready when the time comes. 

Sleeping next to him was exactly what I needed. I feel awake, refreshed even, for the first time in a long time. For once, I didn’t have any nightmares. I didn’t dream at all. Just perfect, blissful darkness. 

Of course, waking up and seeing him sleeping so peacefully beside me was also pleasant. I hadn’t noticed the freckles covering his cheeks, but in the morning sunshine, they stood out like white hot constellations across a black sky. Something about him pins me in place and quiets my racing thoughts. 

I want to feel something— something more than attraction—for him, I do. His companionship is quickly becoming a regular part of my day, and as such I feel myself endeared to him, but it’s not in any romantic sort of way. I wonder if I’m delaying the inevitable realization that Vanitas is never going to call me back again by pretending with Sora.

What happens when I come to terms with that?

His mouth closes around my ear which brings me back to the present. I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his sweatshirt and listen to him sigh. I’ve tried to get him to take the damn shirt off, but once again, he refused. 

So here we are, half naked and panting in my bedroom. The energy is decidedly more playful this morning. I lament the desperate ferocity that fueled our fucking last time, but this can be good too. This can be slower. This can still be fun. 

“Kairi is probably home, so you’re going to have to be quiet,” I whisper into his ear. 

He squirms below me and tries to suppress a laugh. I’ve learned that Sora is very ticklish— especially when it comes to his neck, and I use this to my advantage. 

“Not a problem,” he says quietly. 

“Someone is confident this morning.”

He relaxes into the mattress. “Go ahead and try.”

A challenge? 

“Try to get you to make noise?”

He nods, grinning. 

Damn. I can’t resist _that_. 

I’ve already discarded his undergarments and graze the inside of his thigh with my fingers as lightly as I can. When I look down, his erection is already glistening with wetness. 

The sight makes me think of something. 

“Since we’ve got more time,” I start, grabbing him in my hand and stroking softly. “Would you like to try something new?”

He swallows hard and nods. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you bent over the chair last time. You have no idea how hard it was to not tear you apart.”

He bites his lip and breathes deeply as I apply more pressure to his shaft. I kiss his mouth, then roll off the bed to search for supplies in the bathroom. 

He lets out a little cry of protest while my back is turned, and his mouth is pouting when I return to the bed. 

“You’re going to yell,” I warn him. 

His fingers grip the sheets tightly but his eyes do not waver. He looks deliciously ripe for the taking. 

“I’m going to go slow, okay? Tell me if something doesn’t feel right. This might be uncomfortable at first.”

He nods, face flushed, and burrows deeper into the pillow, brown hair curling around his jaw. 

I tie my hair back and bend down, pressing a kiss to his tip. A forceful exhale from him causes me to look up, and his mouth is hanging open. As he locks eyes with me, I gingerly lick him from base to head before taking him entirely in my mouth. His hands fly away from the sheets and tangle in my hair.

“ _Ha_ —“ he cries. 

I suck him slowly, swirling his cock in my mouth which elicits terribly cute gasps from him. His chest heaves with the effort of controlling his breathing, his volume. 

“Riku.” The way he whispers my name is like a prayer. 

I palm the lubricant retrieved from the bathroom and apply it generously to my fingers as I taste him. He hears the creak of the bottle cap opening and I watch eyes grow wide, but he makes no movement to stop me. 

I urge his knees up around my shoulders and the coated finger searches for his entrance. I feel his muscles tense below me. 

“Ri—“ 

“I can stop,” I say, withdrawing my hand. 

He presses his lips into a tight line and shakes his head. 

“Okay then,” I say, returning to the task at hand. 

My fingers circle him and he arches his back, legs pulling tightly back. I insert one finger and feel him clamp down immediately. 

“Hnng—!”

I bend down and take him in my mouth again and bob my head slowly while my finger curls and probes gently. His body twitches and convulses. My free hand grabs his hip and rubs it soothingly. 

I’ve never been on this end of the deal before, not really. Vanitas would never let me be in control like this. Sure, he’d commanded me to finger him on rare occasion, but it wasn’t ever like this. 

I notice the sweat breaking on Sora’s brow as I feel his prostate swell inside. His eyes are closed and he’s fighting to keep his mouth shut. 

“I like my odds on this bet,” I say, releasing his cock from my mouth. I kiss the mess of curls in the delicate space above his groin, and he whimpers. 

I pull out of him slowly and then try two fingers. His breath hisses out of his teeth and I kiss the inside of his thigh. I pump my fingers slowly, ensuring I touch the bundle of nerves upon entrance and exit.

His cock is red and swollen with need. I take a tentative lick at the shaft again to give him some relief, and his hands pull my hair. 

I give him a few minutes of this, then bring in a third finger. His hips buckle and he moans— the loudest one yet so far. 

“Be _quiet_ ,” I laugh. My own erection strains in my pants. 

Tears prick at his eyes, making them shimmer a brilliant blue that clashes beautifully with his blushing face. 

“Riku, I’m not gonna last much longer,” he cries. 

I roll him over and he shakily rises to all fours on the bed. I kiss his lower back and pull my pants down. I stroke him and rub the remainder of lubricant on myself. 

Unbidden, I moan. I’d been so focused on him that I had ignored my own hunger. Touch starved, the sensation sends ripples of pleasure from my back to my toes. 

“What do I do?” He asks, bending his head down. 

“You just relax,” I tell him, pumping myself to my full girth. “I’m going to go slow, okay?” 

He nods beneath me and presses his ass back against my groin. I spread him wide and press my tip to his entrance. I see muscles flex and sweat slicking his back. I reach out to rub his skin and try to make comforting shushing noises. When I feel him finally relax, I reach around to stoke his dick. When I hear him sigh my name again, I ease myself inside. 

_Fucking Christ,_ he’s tight. The pressure tears through me and I gasp. His head falls to the mattress and he grips the bedding tightly. 

I release his cock to support his hips as I slide in further. His full weight gives out, and he moans. 

“Hnnngggg!” he spits out between gritted teeth. 

I adjust my position to make sure I hit the spot my fingers located and press harder. 

“Ah!” he gasps. 

When I’m mostly in, I shakily force myself to stop. Waves of pleasure tear at my abdomen. I want to move but I need to let him become accustomed to the feeling of me inside him before I let myself go. His shuddered breathing is loud, eclipsing the music playing on the stereo. God, it’s so hard to not move. I feel sweat break out on my lip. 

“L-let me know when you’re ready,” I tell him. I reach down to stoke him while he prepares himself mentally. 

He lets out a sob as he slams back against me, surprising me. His break in composure sends a thrill through me and I double over in pleasure. I curse breathily and kiss his shoulder. 

I start slowly, relishing his heat and the strain of his entrance to accommodate me.

I close my eyes and remember Vanitas’ black hair, the paleness of his skin, and thrust deeper. 

Below me, Sora is shaking, pressing his face harder into a pillow to dampen the sound of his moans. 

“Touch yourself,” I remind him. 

He presses himself up weakly, forehead still crushed into the bed, and moves a hand to palm himself. Immediately he throws his head back with a gasp. My own head lolls back as I fill him entirely. 

I grip his hips firmly and quicken my pace, maintaining relatively shallow thrusts to ensure maximum feeling for him. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Incredible. 

I watch his arm pump in tune with my hips, and he finally shouts, voice breaking over the swelling sound of percussion. 

“Ha—“ I pant, not stopping. “I win.”

“Mmnn!” he cries again. 

“You’re doing great,” I compliment. “So fucking great.” I grab his ass and allow myself a slow, deep thrust to tease him. The sound coaxes a growl out of my throat. 

“Ri—“ he gasps. “ _Again_.”

“Shhh,” I say, picking up the pace again. I pound him hard enough to make my eyes roll. Not long now. 

He arches his back and the shift in position causes an involuntary convulsion of delight. 

“Good?” he asks huskily, looking over his shoulder. 

I nod, not letting up the pace. “Very.” 

So _very_ fucking good. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to come,” I tell him. “We’ll go together.” It causes him to moan dreamily. 

He wiggles his hips, grinding back against me and the feeling is overwhelming. I feel him begin to press against my thrusts and my desire to destroy him is maddening. 

“D-don’t stop,” he commands weakly. 

I laugh. “I wasn’t intending to.”

He collapses face-first into the bed again. 

I’m so fucking close that it’s starting to hurt. I hope he’s almost there. I bend down and kiss the space between his shoulder blades and he whimpers. 

I remember how much he liked hearing his name last time. I whisper it to the nape of his neck as I reach around to close around the hand he has jerking himself. 

“ _Oh_...” 

“Sora,” I say moving deeper. 

“ _Oh_!”

I help him touch himself and chant his name like a spell. Precome slicks our fingers and he twitches as I move to fondle his balls. 

“Al-al-almost,” he stutters.

I feel his muscles tightening and the prickling sensation begins along my spine. I focus on the sensation, manifesting the feeling of spilling inside of him. I won’t, but I really want to. 

I straighten myself and grab his hips for balance as I pound harder. His body goes rigid and he shouts. 

“You ready?”

He nods his head vigorously and I close my eyes. The pricking sparks along my skin and concentrates at my cock. 

The next time he wails, I force myself out and desperately stoke myself to climax. 

“Van—“ I choke out. 

He falls forward, presumably finished, and I release myself on his back. It sputters out in ropes, soaking into his sweatshirt and glittering across his tanned skin. 

I fall forward, forming a cage around him and try to catch my breath. Below me, he’s still moaning and another sob escapes his throat. His frame quakes with aftershocks of orgasm. My arms are shaking, so I throw myself to the side and collapse next to him instead of crushing him. 

My whole body is humming in contentment. A pleasant buzzing thrums through my limbs as if I were a guitar string recently stroked. When I inhale, it feels like clear mountain air. 

We lie in silence, catching our breath. 

A few moments later, Sora pushes himself up weakly and turns his head to face me, slack jawed. 

I reach out to brush the hair out of his face. I can’t quite read his expression, but his eyes chill me. 

“You called me...”

“What?” I ask. 

His brows knit together and he frowns. “You started to call me Vanitas.”

Did I? I open my mouth to respond but think better about it and stay quiet. Sora’s eyes are bleary and red. How the _fuck_ do you respond to that? 

Fucking _awkward_. 

I scoot closer to him and pull him to my chest. He resists initially then melts around me. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, lips pressed against his mop of brown hair. 

I hear him sniffling. 

Shit, is he _crying_?

I try to pull back to inspect his face but he clings tightly and I feel his shoulders shake. I rock him slowly. 

Goddamn it. This is exactly why we shouldn’t have done this. 

“Sora?”

He doesn’t answer, but also makes no move to leave, so I continue holding him. 

“Are you okay?”

I feel a nod against my chest, but I can feel wetness slicking where he presses his face.

Fuck. He really _is_ crying. 

“Ah, Sora, I’m sorry.” I try to pull back gently and he is reluctant to let me go. “I’m gonna go get you a towel and clean you up, okay? You don’t have to get up.”

I walk into the bathroom without turning on the light and rummage around the drawers to find a towel. I grab one that hasn’t been ruined by years of hair bleach and dye.

Arms circle around my waist. 

Sora is standing behind me, forehead pressed into my back. He sniffs. “Sorry.” He voice is rough and pulls at my heart. 

“Hey— don’t—“ I try to turn around and he holds me still. I feel his body tremble. “I got you a towel,” I continue feebly. “I’m afraid I... ah... I got some on your shirt too though so... you can borrow something of mine.”

He lets go and when I face him, his head is bowed to his chest. His legs are so thin and they shake from under the giant sweatshirt. 

I’m not sure what he wants. 

“Do you... want me to leave?” I ask him. 

He shakes his head. 

I stand there awkwardly as his hands reach for the hem of his top and start pulling it up. 

I halt his movements. I know how weird and protective he is about being shirtless around me for whatever reason. I hope he isn’t doing this to prove a point. He doesn’t have to prove anything to me. 

He pushes my hand down and removes the soiled clothing. 

I’ve never seen all of him before. He’s so thin and wiry. I scan his face for some kind of clue to his thoughts when I notice the blotches of dark skin across his left side, prominent even in the shadows. 

“What’s—?”

He looks at me sharply and presses his lips into a tight line. He punches the arm out toward me, holding it out defiantly, daring me to look closer. 

It looks painful. The scars criss-cross from his shoulder to wrist. Even in the darkness of the bathroom, I can tell the entire limb is discolored like a bruise. 

“Sora, what—“

I see tears spill out of his eyes. 

“I’m _never_ going to be good enough. I’m screwed up. I’m not like Vanitas at all.” His voice shakes, but he doesn’t look away from me. “If you’re going to pretend I’m him, then you have to see _all_ of me.” He twists his arm, and his wrist locks before he can rotate it a normal amount. “Don’t compare us. I’m not ever going to be like him. I’ll never be as good or as handsome as him.”

His words are like a kick to the gut. 

“Sora...” I wrap a hand around his wrist and bring it to my lips. I kiss him above the raised scar. “Earlier—I didn’t mean to. You don’t have to compare—“

His body wavers, but his eyes stay steely. “I’m not good enough for you. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorr— Wait, what?”

“You’re out of my league. I’m ruined. I’m not a rock star. I’m not Vanitas. I’m just me... just...” he sighs, “ _this_.”

I can’t stop myself from grabbing him and hugging him close. 

“You’re perfect the way you are,” I tell him. Not a lie. I like his terrible fashion choices, the way he laughs at the lightest tickle, the way he calls me on my shit during practice. 

The thought of him leaving, of him not coming back, of never forgiving me, swallows me like a frozen lake. A coldness seeps into my bones. I hold him tightly, trying to steal his warmth. 

_Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go._

“Please forgive me.”

I feel his arms wrap around me slowly and his shoulders slump forward. 

“I forgive you,” he says finally. His voice is so small, so quiet. 

I don’t deserve to be forgiven so easily. I want him to _fight_ me, stand up for himself. 

He doesn’t. 

I lift his face to mine and kiss him. My heart aches in remorse. The pain of seeing his eyes filled with tears cuts me more deeply than I had anticipated. I want his smile back. I want the laughter and joking from earlier. 

He kisses me back slowly, and I feel goosebumps on his skin. 

I pull away reluctantly. “Let me help you get cleaned up.” 

He nods silently and I turn on the shower, testing for an acceptable temperate. When it seems right, I pull the curtain aside for him, and he steps in. As I move to shut the door, his hand tugs me in after him. 

“You want me to come in too?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He looks so tired. I can’t refuse him. 

I wrap my hands around him again as the water streams over our heads. I rub his back and press a kiss to his scarred shoulder. He winces and I’m not sure if I’ve hurt him, or if he doesn’t want me to look at it. I want to ask, but I don’t think now is the time. 

I reach for soap and begin scrubbing his skin gently. He feels so cold. 

“Are you feeling okay... from the-“

He shrugs. “I’m a little sore, I guess.”

“We don’t have to do that again,” I tell him. 

He looks up at me through the hiss of the water. “So I screwed _that_ up _too_?” 

“Sora, no, that’s not what I meant.” I poke his cheek affectionately. “I meant if you don’t want to bottom, you don’t have to. I’m used to it anyway from with Vanit—“ 

His name makes Sora wince again and I kick myself. 

Goddamn it. I seriously need to _shut the fuck up._

“As long as we’re together, I don’t care,” he says. He sounds pitiful, desperate, _in_ _love_. I recognize it so easily because I’ve been there. 

I’ve screwed up so many times this morning that it doesn’t seem real. I’m afraid this is going to push him away, and we haven’t even really gotten close yet. 

“So let’s stay together then,” I tell him. 

He looks up at me, confused. 

“I’m not going to lie to you about how I feel, but I like having you beside me. That’s the truth. So let’s stay together for now.”

“For now...”

I kiss his forehead. “Stop overthinking.”

He sighs and grabs the loofa from my hand to wash himself. “Are you going to ask about it?” He holds out his arm, wiping it gently. 

“Nah. You can tell me when you’re ready.” I lean back into the water and relish in the feeling of it flowing through my hair. 

I hear him laugh softly, but I don’t think he’s actually happy. “Okay.”

We finish in the shower and I wrap the towel from before around his shoulders. I ruffle his head with the cloth to dry his hair. When he takes it from me I notice the pull of a small smile on his lips. 

I step out to dry off and wring out my hair. It takes a few tries to get the tangles out before I can actually brush through it easily enough. 

When I finish, he’s standing in the middle of my room, looking out the window. It occurs to me again that I really don’t want him to leave. I’d like him to be here in this room every time I get out of the shower. 

I dig through a drawer to find something suitable. I don’t own a ton of long-sleeved shirts. There’s an old black thermal I got as a gift some years ago and I hold it out to him. 

He slips it on and twists, inspecting the fit. I’ve never seen him in dark colors before. 

“It suits you,” I say, appraising him. I tug on my clothes and toss his pants toward him. 

“Uhm, thank you.” He looks around nervously and sticks his hands in his pocket. “So how are you going to sneak me out of here?”

I cross my arms. “I’m not.”

“Wha-?”

“Kairi is going to find out eventually if she hasn’t already. We might as well come clean.”

“So... no more hiding?”

I consider this. “No more hiding from Kairi. Axel and Demyx don’t need to know.”

He chews the inside of his mouth before nodding. I hold out my hand and he comes closer. He’s holding back, and is uncharacteristically reluctant to touch me. 

“Thank you, Sora,” I say quietly. I kiss him gently, willing him to come back to me. I thread my fingers through his and kiss his hand. 

Come back, _please_. 

He smiles half heartedly but nudges me with a shoulder affectionately. 

Fingers laced, I lead him out of the room and back to reality.   
  


_Silver tongue_   
_You caught me staring at you_   
_It's kinda fun_   
_I wanna tear you apart_   
_Don't know your name_   
_But all the serotonin makes me feel like_   
_I can see right through your eyes_   
_You wear a perfect disguise_   
_I feel alive_   
_The moon is red in the sky_   
_I like the pain_   
_So put your hands around my neck and turn the lights off, babe_   
_You and me just for the weekend_   
_Bloodshot eyes in the deep end_   
_That's alright, we don't need a reason_   
_Oh, and my hands on your body_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is by American Teeth


	10. Track 10: Fourth of July

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riku tells Kairi what’s going on. There is a fashion montage. Vanitas comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried for a full ten minutes today because of a sweet comment someone left me. I know it’s silly, but it just made me feel really great. So if you’re reading this, thank you. 
> 
> *dedicates next song from DJ to you*

**Sora**

  
My head is spinning through a diorama of conflicting scenes. The joy of sleeping in Riku’s arms, the dismay of hearing him cry out Vanitas, the happiness of being wanted, the fear of being left behind... The emotions keep slipping through my fingers more quickly than I can actually feel them. 

The whole thing has left me drained. 

Riku leads me into the apartment, our fingers wound together, and I take a deep breath. I’m not really certain what time it is now, but I expect Kairi will be around. I wonder if she will be angry? Then again, I’ve never seen her actually get angry at Riku. 

When I scan the room, I see that she’s at the counter eating cereal. When the door opens, she looks our direction. Her spoon hangs midair on the way to her mouth and milk spills into the bowl. Her eyes dart from Riku to me and then back again. 

“Morning,” Riku says. 

“Hey... you two,” she says putting down her utensil. 

“Hey.”

“So...” Kairi begins again. “Uhm. _What_?”

Riku waves her off. “I don’t think we need to make this a big thing. We are just hanging out. Nothing serious. It won’t affect practice or anything. Just... wanted you to know.”

She chews on her bottom lip, then turns back to her breakfast. “Okay. I trust you.” She doesn’t look at us while she says it, and I notice her shoulders slump a little. 

I was expecting more of a fight from her. Maybe not directed at Riku, but toward me, sure. I’ve been trying to think of explanations or excuses to counteract a screaming match, but the entire thing is over before I can say a word. 

Riku releases my hand and looks through a cabinet to find coffee. 

I feel untethered and awkward. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to think about what would happen after Riku and I had to plead for forgiveness from Kairi. Now that she’s just sitting there eating, I’m not sure what to do. 

I sit down beside Kairi and try my best to seem like I’m not watching her in the periphery or paranoid. 

“You want coffee?” Riku asks. 

“Sure,” Kairi and I say at the same time. 

We look at each other and she smiles. I feel myself relax a bit. 

“So,” Kairi continues, swallowing a bite of her food. She clears her throat. “I’m assuming you saw Ansem’s email this morning?”

Riku leans against the counter, arms crossed. The coffee pot sputters and streams behind him. “No, why?”

Her hands grip the edge of the table. “Riku! You’re supposed to be checking for those!” Her voice is shrill and takes on a maternal kind of tone. It makes me smirk. 

He shrugs and rotates his hand in a circle, urging her to continue on. 

“There was a last minute cancellation for a show sponsored by the record company. The lead singer has laryngitis or something. Ansem wants us to fill in. Tonight. We’ll be opening for Floods, so it’s a pretty big deal.”

I have no idea who Floods are. 

Riku’s eyebrows raise and he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Well, shit.” He sounds impressed. 

“Yeah, so... we have a band meeting in a couple of hours. Axel and Demyx will meet us here and we can go over the plan for tonight. Since the air conditioning is still out in the studio, we’re not going to be able to fit in a proper practice. We’ll just have to do with using the back rooms at the venue.”

Riku nods, considering this. 

“Wow,” I add, “this seems like a pretty big deal. Congratulations, you two. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Kairi looks at me funny. “You’re going too.”

Huh?

“But, I don’t really need to be there. You don’t need me— I don’t play anything.”

Kairi smacks my shoulder. “We said you’re one of us now, so that means you’re going too.”

I look at Riku for help, but he just shrugs. 

One of them, huh? I feel like they’re just being nice. Maybe Kairi still feels guilty for stealing that first song. Riku probably feels guilty for fucking me and calling me by his ex’s name. 

Ugh. The whole thing makes me feel _weird_. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get in the way.”

“One-hundred percent.”

“I’ll feel useless just following you all around like a lost puppy.”

“Puppies are the best,” Kairi says. “Plus... we need someone to help out with selling merch and coordinating people for meet-and-greets. You could do that.” She grins apologetically. “Please?”

That sounds like a whole lot of interacting with strangers. I’m not sure I feel thrilled about that, but at least I wouldn’t be dead weight anymore. 

“I don’t even know what I would need to do.”

“Take money, give shirt,” Riku says, pouring amber liquid into three mugs. “Not much more to it. Keep tweeny-boppers from skipping in line and picking fights.”

“Wha-?”

He sits the mugs down for Kairi and I then takes the third for himself. The coffee steams in the cool air conditioned morning. 

“If Demyx can do it, you can do it,” Kairi assures me. 

“Demyx is a lawyer,” I remind them. 

The both look at me dead-eyed. 

“... Alright. Point taken,” I give in. “So... what should I bring? What do I need to wear?”

I notice Kairi sit ups straighter and her eyes practically glow when she hears me. “Sora, that’s a great point— we need to look our best tonight.”

“I didn’t say—“

“So we are going to go shopping!”

I look at Riku for help again but he’s reading something on his phone. Kairi tugs on the sleeve of my shirt. 

“Wait, you mean you and I,” I gesture between Kairi and myself, “we are going shopping? Us two?”

She nods aggressively and quickly finishes the last few spoonfuls of her breakfast. “Yeah, come on, let’s go!”

“I am not going,” Riku says without looking up. “I’ve got other things to take care of.” He sounds distracted. 

I wonder what he needs to take of. 

“S’fine, Sora and I will have more fun without you slowing us down,” Kairi says. She turns to me, hops to the floor, and dances from one foot to the other. “Sora this will be so much fun.”

“I had no idea you were so into shopping.”

Riku snorts, voice still far away and distracted. “Understatement.” 

“Come on, Sora. We need to head out now so we get back here in time for the meeting.”

I want to finish my coffee and see what is causing Riku to make the face that’s currently screwing up his features, but he doesn’t look up at all when he says, “See ya.”

Kairi grabs her bag, hooks her arm through mine, and pulls me out the door. 

###

Kairi is giddy with an excitement I haven’t seen before. This is a new side to her that is both funny and kind of cute. 

She’s been talking a mile a minute from the moment we got into her car until now. She has told me all about her favorite shops, the best places to find actually good vintage jackets, the sellers you can barter with, and also a surprising amount about how she feels about zippers as accessories. 

Right now, we are deep in a boutique where all the shop assistants have varying degrees of piercings and colorful bird-plumage hair. Kairi is looking for the perfect outfit for tonight but has so far only found outfits perfect for every other occasion under the sun. I’m stuck carrying the bags, but she’s so happy and busy that I don’t mind.

“ _Oh_!” She says suddenly, emerging from behind a rack. She’s holding up a pair of bright yellow leather combat boots. 

“Ha- cool!”

She grins. “For you!”

I tilt my head. “Really?”

She nods. “As a thank you for coming with me. I owe you a present. And no offense, but your shoes are _seriously_ terrible.”

I look down at the old yellow trainers and affectionately toe at the ground. They’re worn out and, yeah, even I have thought on more than one occasion that I needed to replace them, but faced with these new boots, I feel a tiny sad. Like I’m condemning an old friend to death, or like cheating on a particularly long-term relationship. 

“Don’t say no!” She tells me, forcing me to break my silence. 

I think about Riku, about how glorious he looks strutting across the stage, and about Vanitas’ face plastered across magazines. I’m going to have to step up my game to try to compete with that. Maybe this is the perfect excuse to revamp my look. Maybe that can level the playing field a little. 

The bitter jealousy rages throughout my body and erases the hesitation about the shoes. “Kairi, do you think you could help me find something new to wear for tonight?”

The smile she gives me is bigger than any I’ve seen before. 

* * *

**Kairi**

  
I can’t believe the luck I’m having today. I’m in such a good mood and with each new top or accessory, I find myself nearly squealing with joy. I imagine all the opportunities I’ll have to wear them— signing autographs, meeting fans, singing in sold out theaters. 

Today is going to be _such_ a good day. 

I’m just so excited. It’s all happening. It’s _finally_ happening. To be so close once before, to be teased with proximity to fame, only to have it snatched away at the last minute, stung like needles dragged across skin. With Vanitas, we almost had it, and then it disappeared so quickly that it left me wondering if I had imagined the whole thing. 

I push the thoughts down before they can dampen my spirit. We are opening for a major band tonight. We are playing in an actual amphitheater— a real honest to god massive amphitheater. The exposure is going to be incredible. Thousands of people are going to hear us play our music. I can’t wait to be out there, instrument in hand, to share our work with a new group of people. 

I need to find the perfect outfit for tonight. First impressions are important. 

I glance over at Sora, his hands full of bags. He stares out across the racks of carefully curated fashion thoughtfully. He’s been so patient with me this morning. Even Riku has his limits for my love of shopping, but Sora has accepted everything easily with good humor. 

I think back to seeing him for the first time, hunched over in the cafe, scribbling frantically into his notebook. Back then, he seemed like such a background character, but now he stands next to me like a leading man. Well, maybe not a leading man, but at least the supporting character. 

“Sora, just in case I’ve never really said it... I’m sorry for how I treated you when we first met.” I kind of screwed myself over with his first impression of me. I hope he really has forgiven me and isn’t just pretending or something. I’ve been wanting to say this for a long time. “I’m glad things worked out like this though. I’m glad we get to be friends,” I tell him. 

He smiles and his sincerity is so plainly written across his face that I think I understand why Riku can’t leave him alone. When Sora listens, he really hears what you’re saying. When he talks, he says what he feels without holding back. It feels good to have that kind of attention, that kind of authenticity, shared with you. 

“We wouldn’t be able to do this without you,” I remind him. 

That makes him blush. I forget how sensitive he is to compliments and it makes me like him even more. 

“Uhm. Thank you. And, you’re forgiven— honest.”

I reach out and hug his arm quickly before jumping back to the task at hand. 

I hold up a jacket for him to consider. “Anyway, lets get this makeover started!” It’s dark blue, silk, a weird vintage bomber jacket with cranes embroidered across the back. 

“Really?” he says skeptically. 

“Hey, I have it on good authority that these are very fashionable. And cranes are good luck!”

“I guess I shouldn’t turn down any kind of good luck charm.”

I hang the piece over my arm as I jump to another rack searching for jeans. Sora is always wearing all these baggy clothes, so I honestly had no idea what he was hiding underneath all of it until he stepped out of Riku’s room this morning wearing his shirt. Imagine my surprise seeing him in this tight black too, showing off delicate shoulders and narrow waist. He’s even got a graceful posture when he tries. He’s actually pretty handsome. 

Not for the first time, a fear hidden deep in my stomach creeps out and makes me scared of the thought of Riku and Sora being together. I want Riku to be happy, but I want to protect him better this time. I couldn’t protect him from Vanitas, but I am prepared now. I can’t imagine Sora being as heartless as Vanitas, but I can’t take chances when someone as precious as Riku is the one at risk of being damaged. 

Selfishly, I think to myself, I also don’t want Sora to rip the rug from beneath our feet right as we make it big. We can find other songwriters, I guess, but I don’t know if I can find one to so utterly take Vanitas’ place.

I hold up a pair of dark denim to Sora’s small hips, guessing for a size. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for Riku and Sora to be together. Sora would be a nice change from Riku’s track record of asshole guys chewing him up and spitting him out. Plus, if they’re dating, Sora is less likely to randomly up and leave. The only trick is going to be keeping the powder keg of their relationship from exploding... If they break up, then this just becomes Vanitas 2.0. 

What are the odds though? I can do this. All I have to do is keep them happy and together. Make them fall in love and don’t let them fall out. Simple. _Easy_. 

Right?

Am I biting off more than I can chew? I force the fears down and bury them. 

Sora is looking at a display of jewelry while I grab a few different shirts for him to try. He fingers a thin black bracelet studded with silver grommets. 

“I didn’t think you were a fan of the whole studs and leather scene,” I say to him. 

He looks up quickly, embarrassed, and says, “It just reminded me of Riku.” He moves to put it back but I stop him. 

I consider it. “Yeah, that’s pretty spot on for him.”  
  
Sora stares at his hand, at the bracelet. 

“Wanna get it for him?” I suggest. 

His face flushes and he gapes at me. “Wouldn’t it be weird?”

I shrug. “I don’t think so. I think it’s nice, like a have-a-good-show present.”

He relaxes and grins. “Okay then.”

I like the idea of someone thoughtful like Sora being with Riku. He deserves someone like that, someone sweet and calm. Someone who buys him bracelets just because they remind them of him. 

“So how long has the thing with Riku been going on?” I ask trying to sound uninterested or indifferent. 

“Ah, not... not long,” he replies. 

“How is it going?”

He pauses and looks at me like he’s about to burst and spill all his secrets. The sheen of his eyes tells me he is dying to confide in someone, I just don’t know if he trusts me enough to do it.

“You can tell me. I promise I won’t say anything to Riku.”

He looks at me skeptically. 

“Okay, I know I don’t have a great track record with you, but I don’t break promises.”

He holds out a pinky finger and the action is so juvenile and cute that I just want to squeeze him. I hold up my pinky and wrap it around his. 

“Promise?” he confirms. 

Sora trusts people so easily. I can’t believe I betrayed him the first time I met him. I swear that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to him. 

“Consider this my oath of fealty to you.”

Our fingers squeeze together and he laughs. 

“So...?” I prompt. 

“I like him... _a lot,”_ he says, touching a display of scarves. The sheer material slips through his hands like water. He sounds sad. “A lot more than I thought I would.”

I have butterflies in my stomach— sympathy butterflies— for Riku, because a a boy confessing their feelings for Riku to me feels like being confessed to myself. Riku’s happiness is my happiness. I want to scream excitedly. 

“That’s great! Why do you sound so bummed?”

“Well, he doesn’t... feel quite the same.”

That stops me. I frown and put my hands on my hips. What is wrong with Riku?

“Why not?”

He gestures toward himself. 

“Oh, come on, Sora,” I sigh. 

“It’s true. He wants Vanitas, not me. He’s still in love with him.”

Ugh. I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Listen, Sora, we are a team now.” I look up at him and pump a fist into the air. “You can come to me for anything, any time. I’m invested in this now. I know Riku better than anyone. I’ll help you win him over.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really! Duh! How could you even doubt it?” I take the bags from his right hand and trade him for the pile of clothes I’ve been picking out for him. “Now, step one, consider me your fairy godmother and let me help you get ready for the ball. Err- the concert.” I smile and push him toward the dressing rooms. 

He goes inside and I hear the swish of fabric as he changes. 

I’m irritated that Riku is still hung up on Vanitas when he has been presented with this perfectly good opportunity with Sora. He’s been so lonely and out of sorts, I would think that having Sora to keep him busy would make him feel better, or at least just get over Vanitas a little. 

Leave it to Vanitas to keep the drama alive and well even when he’s not even on the same island. _Ugh_. 

Sora makes a concerned noise from inside the small changing room.

“What’s wrong?”

“These clothes...”

I’m honestly not sure how to even picture Sora in the outfits I picked out. He’s always so hidden in his giant sweatshirts and trying to blend in with the background, that picturing him in something hip is nearly impossible. That won’t do anymore. 

“Kairi, are you sure about this?”

“Let me see!”

He opens the door slowly, brown hair peeking out first, then steps out slowly. 

Riku is not going to be able to resist Sora after I’m done with him. 

“Oh, I’m sure!”

* * *

**Riku**

I’ve been laying on the floor of the living room since they left, processing the sequence of events that led me here. 

When I checked my phone for Ansem’s email, the last thing I was expecting was to see a text from Vanitas. 

> **1 new text message from V.**   
>  **> Hey, heard you’re playing tonight at the Arena. I’m in town. Let’s catch up after.**

What the _fuck_ is that about?

My heart is still beating so fast. Even after Sora and Kairi left, I can’t get my hands to stop shaking. 

What does this mean? Does he want to get back together?

I try not to let myself think about it too much because if I get my hopes up just to get them dashed again, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. 

I still haven’t responded to him. Normally, I’d bounce ideas off Kairi, but there is no way she would be supportive of this. She has limits, and helping me win back Vanitas definitely crosses her line. 

No, I definitely can’t tell her. 

I don’t like keeping secrets like this. Lately it seems like all the secrets are piling up, filling the room with precarious towers of deceit that risk collapsing and burying me alive. I just want things to be simple again. I want to jump a year back in time and wake up before all of this happens.

I’m kidding myself if I think I’m not going to answer the text from Vanitas, to meet him. There’s no way I would forgive myself if I had the opportunity to see him again and missed it. 

I pull out my phone and type out a response. 

> **Name the time and place.**

_Send_. 

I wonder what he’s doing right now. I wonder why he’s back in town. I thought he was still touring on the mainland. Could it be that he misses me? Did he come back for me?

Don’t your hopes up, I beg myself. Don’t do this. 

I was anxious for the surprise show before, but now my stomach hurts so much from anticipation that I want to vomit. Vanitas is really here. He’s back. 

He might even be at the show tonight. 

Oh, god, _what if he is?_

I’ve got to keep myself busy so I don’t make myself sick. I head back into my room to pull shit together for tonight. I stuff a duffel bag full of ripped jeans and artfully destroyed shirts. I’m not really sure what I should wear now. If Vanitas is watching, then I need to make sure I look good. No— not just good— I need to look _great_. 

I toss in a stick of chalky black eyeliner and search for my box filled with old hoops and studs for my lip. I took my lip ring out after Vanitas left— he was the one who convinced me to get it, after all— but I am determined to put it back in tonight. 

When I finally find it and try to push the stud through my skin, the wound has already healed itself closed. I stand up and head to the bathroom and inspect the small scar in the mirror. I can still see the indentation from where it used to sit under my lower lip. Maybe if I push hard enough, I can just get it through. 

I hold my breath, stretch the skin taught and stab the post through. It fucking hurts. I should have cleaned it first. I’m going to wind up with an infection or something. My blood wells up around the metal as I screw the ball onto the jewelry. I lick it away and the taste reminds me of Sora and our kiss on the balcony. 

_Sora_...

I grab a hand towel and go back into the kitchen for some ice. I wrap the cubes in the towel and hold it up to my lip. I know it’ll be swollen for a while. The sting reminds me of when Vanitas pierced my lip the first time. 

_Vanitas_...

I go back to packing my bag for tonight and throw in the other necessities; deodorant, tooth brush, hair ties, phone charger. 

I wonder if I’ll be back tonight?

Maybe Vanitas will want me to stay with him. A thrill jolts down my spine at the thought. A memory of Vanitas panting above me causes me to hold my own breath. 

The numbers on my computer screen tell me that it’s nearly time for everyone to come back. I’m not sure what to do with all my nervous energy now, so I wind up just laying down on top of my quilt and closing my eyes. I can hear my heartbeat in the quiet of the room. 

Sora, Vanitas, Sora, Vanitas. 

I see them both so clearly when my eyes are closed. 

###

“Hey!”

What?

I roll over. 

“Hey, wake up!”

Something hits me in the head. I sit up and rub at my eyes. Axel is standing in my room, arms crossed, face irritated. 

“Oh, hey, man,” I tell him. A yawn escapes me. My lip hurts. 

“Get up, why don’t you?”

I groan and fall back into the pillow he tossed at me. Must have fallen asleep waiting on everyone to arrive. 

Suddenly, I remember Vanitas’ text and my pulse races. 

I’m awake now. 

I stand and stretch, following Axel back into the living room. Demyx is splayed across the cushions, legs thrown up over the back of the couch as he watches something on the TV upside-down. 

“Hey,” I tell him. 

He waves, but stays focused on the screen. It’s some kind of bloody slasher movie. A woman runs in terror as a man with three heads chases after her with a butcher knife. 

“Where is Kairi?” Axel asks.

“Should be back any time now. She went out with Sora to find something to wear tonight.” I try to stole a yawn. 

Axel rolls his eyes and fiddles with his cell phone. Probably texting Kairi to tell her how unacceptable her tardiness is. Typical. 

A melodramatic scream captures my attention and I look back to the TV. Demyx is laughing as a comical amount of blood explodes on the screen. Humans don’t even have that much blood. It’s gross and stupid and makes me laugh. 

Behind me, I hear the front door open but I keep watching the movie.

“Hiya, everyone,” I hear Kairi say from behind me. 

“‘Bout time,” Axel chastises. 

“Zip it,” Kairi shouts back. Then, “Ugh, what are you watching?”

Demyx pulls himself up and looks over his legs on the back of the couch. “Hey— oh, _wow_ , Sora. Lookin’ good.”

That catches my attention. I pry my eyes away from the screen and turn to see what Demyx is going on about. 

Kairi is placing bags of her shopping onto the counter, and beside her, Sora is holding her purse. He’s completely changed his outfit since this morning and he’s gotten a haircut. 

“Sora and I went for a little makeover today!” Kairi says triumphantly. 

He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a crisp white shirt with a collar that shows off the soft line of of his clavicle. She hasn’t managed to get him to shed the sleeves though, and he’s wearing a deep blue bomber embroidered in golden thread. He looks completely different, transformed even. 

“Well?” she says, opening her arms to gesture to Sora emphatically. 

Axel claps and Demyx lets out a whoop. 

“Riku?” he asks shyly. 

_Goddamn it._

“Perfect,” I tell him. He smiles and my heart thumps painfully. When he looks at me like that, it makes me want to kiss him badly. 

In my pocket, my phone buzzes again. I pull it out to check who it is. 

> **1 new text message from V.**   
>  **Great. I’ll come find you after. Excited to see you.**

_Goddamn it._   
  


_You and I were_   
_you and I were fire, fire, fireworks_   
_That went off too soon_   
_And I'll miss you in the June gloom too_   
_It was the fourth of July_   
_You and I were_   
_you and I were fire, fire, fireworks_   
_I said I'd never miss you, but I guess you'll never know_   
_Where the bridges I have burned never really led home_   
_On the fourth of July_   
_I wish I'd known how much you loved me,_   
_I wish I cared enough to know,_   
_I'm sorry every song's about you_   
_The torture of small talk_   
_with someone you used to love_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is Fall Out Boy


	11. Track 11: The Only Hope For Me Is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heartless fill in last minute for another band at a large venue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for reading my first fic! I think maybe there will be 4 more chapters, but I don’t actually know 
> 
> Uhm yeah, find me on tumblr at borndeaddd or twitter at borndeadd.

**Vanitas**

When I step out of the hotel to meet Ventus with the car, he starts laughing. The sun glints off the dark paint of the hood, and he is reflected perfectly in the shine. Two mirror images double over snickering. 

“ _What_?” I spit. 

“I mean, have you looked at yourself? What are you supposed to be— a hipster barista?” Tears well in his eyes, and I have to restrain myself from punching him in the gut. “Are you going cosplaying as a fucking _theatre major?_ ”

It’s not like I have a choice. If I’m going to the show tonight, it’s going to be a headache if I’m noticed. As much as I enjoy the adoration of the masses, it would be inconvenient to try to scope out Riku if there are mobs of fainting women around me. 

“At least I don’t look like some blond...” I struggle for the proper insult, “blond shithead.” _Fuck_.

I place a pair of fake black-rimmed glasses on my face and flip Ventus off. He laughs harder, wiping at his eyes. 

“Remind me why the fuck I haven’t fired you already?”

He opens the car door for me then leans in close after I take my seat. His voice is thick with laughter when he says, “Because no one else will tolerate your shitty-ass attitude and appetite for destruction.” He slams the door shut for emphasis and I see him shake his head as he rounds the vehicle. 

I hate that he’s probably right. 

He doesn’t have to be so fucking _cocky_ about it though. 

When he slides in, he tosses a hat at me from its spot on the passenger seat. “Wear this. Your hair is going to give you away. Those glasses don’t do shit. Who do you think you are— Clark Kent?”

I reluctantly tug the knitted cap over my head, tucking waves of black hair behind it. Between this and the hideous baseball shirt (courtesy of Ventus) and plaid flannel (courtesy of Riku’s abandoned drawer), I look completely lame and unfuckable. I already can’t wait to take this off later. 

“Fuck you,” I hiss. 

Ventus ignores me and the engine roars to life. 

Ansem called me back to the island for some meeting he insisted couldn’t be postponed yesterday. I frown at the memory of the supple bodies I had to leave behind on the mainland for this quick trip. We were having such a _good_ _time_. I sigh. 

I’m only in town for the weekend, so I figure I’ll just spend the nights with Riku to eliminate the need for wooing some other jackass. Riku already knows what I like anyway, and he’s still pining over me, so a quick hookup should be easy. 

I lean on the door and look out the window as Ventus drives to the venue. The sun is dipping lower in the sky, painting the landscape in a wash of orange and red. 

I wonder if Riku is going to cry when he sees me. I bet he will. He’s such a sap. I snicker to myself and remember his frantic phone calls when I left. The way he begged me to come back— just for a day. _Priceless_. 

I hope he can apply that enthusiasm toward the bedroom later. 

Tonight will be fun. 

###

When we arrive, Ventus tosses me a badge to pin to my shirt so I can get backstage. I don’t plan on heading there right away, but eventually I’ll sneak back and grab Riku. I don’t feel like having Kairi slap me, so I’m going to lay low around the rest of them. 

We are winding around the periphery of the grounds, where table and tents are overflowing with colorful branded merchandise. There are pennants and shirts, keychains, records, patches, and pins. Overeager fans are already scoping out the layout and making purchases. Over-priced alcohol and shitty burgers are advertised over every kiosk. The lines twist back and forth like snakes. 

Ahead, I spy the unmistakable black and red tent I used to spend so much time in. A flash of silver hair in front of it catches my eyes. 

Riku is handing a box over the table to the merch guy. He hasn’t changed much since I saw him last— maybe a little paler, a little thinner, but that might just be my imagination. I admire the thickness of his arms, the muscle under his shirt. I can’t wait to have him bent over my knee in a few short hours. 

Riku stops and places his palms on the table, leaning forward toward the merch guy. The new guy is wearing a god-awful jacket that is so offensive I find myself snorting. He grips his neck awkwardly and says something that makes Riku laugh. 

I prefer to remember sulky Riku. The way he pouted and would attach himself to my hip was vastly superior to this smiling, laughing Riku before me. He’s supposed to be _sad_. I _dumped_ him. He shouldn’t be laughing. I wrinkle my nose in distaste for the display. 

The guy holds up a finger to Riku then shoves his hand in his pocket. Riku stands up straighter and tilts his head curiously, then reaches out his own hand. I cross my arms, growing uneasy. 

The man wraps something around Riku’s wrist and I can see his blush even from this distance. Riku inspects the— bracelet?— by bringing it close to his face and running his long fingers over the design. Brown-haired guy looks down and is saying something, but I can’t read lips well enough to know what. 

That _son-of-a-bitch._

Riku grips his wrist tight and smiles. The man looks up and grins back. I watch in horror as their faces edge closer and closer until Axel approaches. His voice startles them, and they separate quickly. 

Interesting. 

Who the fuck is _that_? What the fuck was that about?

Axel gestures toward the stage, and Riku nods. The two leave together and I watch the other man stare off after him dreamily. Riku has the audacity to pause to look back at him. 

“Ventus, who were they just talking to?”

“How should I know?” he says, sighing. 

“Can you honestly do _anything_?” I glare at him and order him to go find where Heartless’ rooms are backstage and text me the location. 

I’ll just figure this one out myself. 

I stomp toward the tent and a girl in a yellow dress enters and smiles. “Hi! We aren’t quite set up ye—“

“You,” I say pointing a finger at the person Riku was talking with. 

He looks startled. His blue eyes are huge, fanned by delicate lashes that are so long they nearly brush his cheek. “Me?”

“Who are you?”

“Uh, Sora.” He crosses his arms defensively. “Can I help you?”

What kind of name is _Sora_?

He’s shifting uncomfortably and looking to the girl for help. So apparently he’s a fucking wimp too. 

“How do you know the band?” I demand. 

The girl steps forward and shakes Sora’s shoulders triumphantly. “Well, he’s the new songwriter!” She’s showing him off like a prize. 

What the _fuck_?

So he’s my replacement, then. I think back to the way Riku looked at Sora and I feel rage burning through me. He’s my replacement in more than one way, it seems. 

That just won’t do. 

“Ah, that explains the subpar sound I’ve heard all about,” I say, tracing my fingers along the table, brushing across piles of albums and examples of shirt designs. I knock a stack of demo tapes over. 

I sense Sora stiffen, but he doesn’t otherwise react to my bait. No fun. 

The girl is frowning at me now. “Can we help you with something in particular?”

I shrug and look directly at Sora. He steps back, trying to break eye contact. 

Weak. 

“Not yet,” I say slowly. 

“Well... if that’s the case, we need to finish setting up. Enjoy your show.”

I ignore her and study the man’s face. Completely unremarkable. Riku has really stooped low for this one. I’m offended to be followed up by this chump. 

“See you later,” I say. 

Having satisfied my curiosity, I pivot on my heel and make my way in the direction Ventus had left. 

I stay to the edge of the flood of people. There are a few who give me second glances, but otherwise it seems my disguise is working. I shove my hands into my pockets and scowl at them all. 

What gives this Sora kid the right to think he can just replace me? He’s got nothing on me. What game is he trying to play here? 

The thought of him touching Riku makes me angry. Riku is mine. Mine. Apparently I’ve been a little too distant lately because dear Riku seems to have forgotten this. 

I flash the badge at security and enter a side door to join the rest of the performers in the back. The quiet behind the doors is deafening in comparison to the low roar of the crowd’s chatter. The heavy silence momentarily stops me, and for a second I feel very, very alone. 

Panic wells in my throat and I crack my knuckles to keep my hands from shaking. It feels like the walls will swallow me whole. I take a deep breath. 

I pull out my phone to a deluge of notifications and relax. The calls and IM’s remind me that I am still surrounded by adoring public. I’m not alone. 

See? People want me. I don’t have to worry. I push the panic down. 

I’m _not_ alone. 

I swipe through the texts and emails to find the chat log with Ventus. He’s been able to find the room my old band is in— room 4– so he’s waiting nearby. 

I’m still not sure if I should announce my presence before or after Riku goes on stage. Right now I’m so irritated at the sight of Riku and Sora that I want to just grab what I came for and spirit him away to my room immediately for punishment. I probably would, but unfortunately Riku would certainly put up a fight, so I toss the idea aside. The only thing he ever really put before me— loved more— was performing. 

No, I’ll just have to wait. He can reward me for my patience later. 

* * *

**Sora**

  
I have no idea what I did to offend the person in glasses who came to ask my name and stare daggers into my soul. Selphie is ranting at me, decrying his poor attitude and petulant face but I can’t seem to pay attention to her. I just keep thinking about his eyes. 

Something about his eyes bothers me. They’re like some sort of vision from a nightmare. Their predatory glint makes me feel like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a fox. 

What did I do to piss him off?

I sit down in a canvas chair beside Selphie and cradle my head in my hands. If this is any indication of how the evening is headed, I’m in for a long night. 

“Sora?”

I shake my head, hoping the action will erase my thoughts. “Sorry, what was that again?”

“I was just saying thank you again for inviting me to see the show!”

“I told you I would.”

“I know, but still.”

“I’m sorry it came with strings attached,” I say sheepishly, picking at a stray thread on my shirt. 

She furrows her brows. “No, this is great. We have our own little private tent and the screen ahead is so close that we will have a better view than if we were in the front row!”

“I guess, but we still have to work.”

Her laugh sets me at ease. “Sora, stop it. This is great. I feel like I’m really in with the cool kids finally. I’m so happy to be here.”

“Well, you’re welcome then.”

She smiles at me and then leans in closer. “So did you give it to him?”

I made the mistake of fiddling with the leather bracelet Kairi convinced me to buy for Riku in front of Selphie when we met at her house earlier. It very obviously wasn’t intended for myself, so she peppered me with questions until I finally caved in and told her it was a gift for Riku. I never was very good at keeping secrets from her. 

I feel my cheeks heat up. “Y-yeah.”

I remember his face when I fastened it around his pale wrist. His eyes were soft, and the way he leaned forward, I almost thought he might kiss me. Which is stupid, of course, because we were in public, but there was a moment I let myself hope. 

Kairi was right though. He didn’t think it was weird after all. The quiet way he said thank you to me still echoes in my mind. 

> “ _I’ll never take it off,” he said._

I grin at the memory. That has to mean something. 

“So does he, like, know?” Selphie prods. 

I look at her confused. “Know what?”

“Uh, that you’re in _looove_?”

“I never said that.” I swipe a customer’s card through the digital till and hand over a sweatshirt. 

She scoffs. “I’m your big sister now, remember? Big sisters just know these things.” She stomps her foot for emphasis. 

I look into her all-knowing green eyes and sigh. “I don’t know.” 

“So you do!”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. “Yes, I do. I mean, I think so. It’s all happened so fast. I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s confusing.”

Her squeal of joy hurts my ears. “You have to tell him!”

“It’s complicated.”

“So make it simple.”

“Selphie...”

“Sora!” She thwaps my back and purses her lips. “Sora, if you love someone you have to let them know. Don’t hold back. Don’t think twice about it— just do it.”

I don’t have the energy to get into all the details with her about why that is so completely a terrible idea. Luckily, a couple approaches the tent to purchase a CD and I think I am saved from the conversation. 

“I think you’ll feel better if you tell him,” Selphie presses. 

“How do you know what I’m feeling?”

She looks at me like I’m completely stupid. 

“Sheesh, whatever.” Am I really being that obvious? 

I try to consider her advice. Tell Riku I love him, huh? What good would that do? As long as he’s mourning his relationship with Vanitas I have no chance. Maybe in time he’ll change his mind, but I have a sinking feeling he will tire of me before that happens. 

My stomach aches at the thought of a future without him. I have no right to feel so distraught, but the feeling obliterates me. Even having just a taste of Riku— of what could be— is intoxicating in a way I couldn’t have comprehended a few months ago. When he finally is sick of me, I don’t know what I’ll do. Panic constricts my lungs and I can’t breathe. 

Not for the first time I wish fairy tales were real. This would be the perfect time for some singing birds and magical creatures to come in with a grand plan to defeat the evil sorcerer and help me win the prince’s heart. 

Maybe Selphie is right though. Maybe I should just lay it all on the table, even if Riku doesn’t want to hear it. There is a chance that maybe this time will be different. Maybe he will be able to start to see a future with me. 

I think I can see it sometimes, in the quiet moments between us: the way his pinky finger will touch the back of my hand, the way he smiles when he doesn’t know I can see him, how he kisses my scarred wrist. There is something there— a magnetic pull, an electric energy— between us. I can’t just be imagining it. 

I place a hand to my chest and feel my heart beating. I’ve been resisting allowing myself to fully accept my feelings, but I don’t think I can fight them anymore. The walls are crumbling down. I’m giving up. 

I love Riku. My love for him is as inevitable as the sun setting and the moon rising.

I was done for the moment he looked at me singing my first song. I hadn’t known it at the time— I hadn’t even known HIM at the time— but that song was for him. Unbeknownst to me, my heart told the story he needed to sing. He is the voice I’ve been struggling to find for so long. I’ve been writing all these things for Riku. 

I can’t just let that go. 

My mind is set, though it terrifies me. I have to tell him tonight. He might not be ready to hear it, but I have to say it, even if he turns me away. Even if he isn’t ready to accept my feelings, I will hold them out for him to see. 

I love him. It seems so simple now. I let the words wash through me, cleaning out old wounds and healing broken bones. 

The screen nearest our tent activates and shows the main stage. The lights are still dim, but I can see the press of bodies toward the barrier, phones and cameras lifted above heads to capture the moment. 

“Oh— looks like it’s starting!” Selphie sings. 

My heart races and I feel my lips tugging into a smile knowing Riku will be out there in just moment. I haven’t seen him perform for an audience since that first night. So much has changed since then. 

I love him. It feels so good to just _accept_ it. 

I realize suddenly that I’m brimming with pride. Riku did it. They all did it. They’re really out there about to perform for thousands of people. These people are going to hear him sing what I never even had the courage to say out loud. 

The lights flash and I see the band enter the stage on the screen. Selphie grabs my bad arm gently and squeals again. When I look over at her, her face is alight with pure joy. 

It’s all sort of overwhelming suddenly, and I feel my throat tighten. So many things can still go wrong, but right now all I can think of is how satisfying it is being surrounded by friends, surrounded by music, and looking up at the person I like most in the world. 

He really is beautiful up there. When his hand reaches for the microphone, I see the bracelet I gave him only a few hours before. Seeing it up there with him, I feel tears sting at my eyes. 

“This is a new song,” he says, voice echoing throughout the amphitheater. He looks down and smiles shyly and the roar of the crowd is deafening. His voice is better than I remembered:

_Remember me.  
Where, where will we stand when all the lights go out across these city streets? _ _Where were you when all of the embers fell? I still remember there—_ _covered in ash,_ _covered in glass, covered in all my friends—_ _I still think of the bombs they built._

I love him so much. 

I wonder if he knows this song is about him. All the songs are about him, for him. Secret gifts I place in his hands and hope he will decode and understand. 

_If that's the best that I could be?_  
_Then I'd be another memory_  
_Can I be the only hope for you?_  
_Because you're the only hope for me_  
_And if we can't find where we belong_  
_We'll have to make it on our own_  
_Face all the pain and take it on_

  
The sight of the crowd jumping and dancing stuns me. I just can’t believe this many people are enjoying something I created— we created. I find myself swaying with Selphie and soon I’m singing along. The excitement bubbles over and I don’t know if the tears are from happiness or excitement. 

_Because the only hope for me is you alone_

  
###

The set goes well. Despite being a last-minute substitute to the lineup, the crowd is wildly accepting and I can see from the blown up recording that some even know a few of the old Heartless songs. 

They only have one song left now, I think, judging by the time. People are starting to flow out of the massive crowd to purchase drinks, buy souvenirs, or use the restroom before the next opener. 

Selphie handles the line forming in front of the test because I can’t keep my eyes away from Riku gliding across the stage. 

He’s smiling so wide. I’ve never seen him so happy. 

The final song starts and some commotion to stage right grab’s Riku’s attention. I might be imagining it but I think he looks a little paler, spooked even. He misses the first note but recovers quickly. His eyes keep darting to the side— something distracting. 

I hear the wails from the crowd a second before a second wave booms from the large screen. 

The camera pans out and a figure emerges from the sidelines and I feel my stomach drop. 

Of course that guy looked familiar. 

I watch as Vanitas removes his hat and glasses and strides toward Riku, a second mic in his hand. I feel so, so stupid. He’s like some sort of poorly disguised comic book villain and I’m the idiot who fell for it. 

The line in front of the tent turns around and people begin pointing at the screen. His voice is being spoken all around me like in some kind of nightmare. 

_Vanitas, Vanitas, Vanitas, Vanitas._

He harmonizes with Riku, looking directly at him on the stage. 

_'Cause there's always time for second guesses, I don't wanna know. If you're gonna be the death of me, that's how I wanna go_.

I don’t like the way they look at each other. Riku recovers from the shaky beginning and catches his footing. He grins at Vanitas. I feel sick. 

_You've got a pocket full of reasons why you're here tonight. So, baby, tonight just be the death of me._

I see Kairi’s icy stare jump from Vanitas to seek guidance from Axel. The two share a confused look, and Demyx’s mouth hangs open in surprise as he drums along. I have no idea how they keep their fingers moving to keep the music flowing. 

I watch in horror as the crowd whips into a frenzy as the song continues. Vanitas is larger than life and godlike. Beside him, Riku shines like a deity. I feel so small and insignificant. I feel my dreams shatter right as I began to picture them. 

_Before the world catches up, show me your love._

The song ends with a bang of confetti. Neon balloons fall from the rafters. Vanitas bows and blows a kiss to the audience, sending them screaming, before walking up to Riku. There is a moment of awkward hesitation before the two embrace. 

_No, no, no, no._

It happens pretty quickly, but for me it seems like an eternity. 

Vanitas pulls back and cups Riku’s head, dipping him back for a dramatic kiss. I watch as Riku’s hand reaches up to touch Vanitas’ face. For just a moment the shine of the lights on the bracelet’s grommets is blinding and the screen goes white. 

The crowd goes absolutely wild. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs are by MCR and P!ATD


	12. Track 12: Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanitas steals Riku away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, Vanitas is a prick.
> 
> Anyway, love you all.
> 
> CW: sex, blood, kinda light bdsm, sorta I guess?

**Riku**

I feel the press of Vanitas’ lips against mine and then I’m falling backward in his arms. He holds me aloft and for a second I feel like I’m floating. 

I can’t believe it. He’s _here_ — he’s literally right here, holding me in his arms. It’s like some kind of dream. 

We dodge technicolor balloons and confetti that sparkles in the flashing lights as we exit the stage. Kairi removes her bass in slow motion and turns toward us, but then Vanitas is pulling me around the next corner and she vanishes from my sight. 

In the next area, he shoves me back against a little alcove in the wall and his mouth is on my neck, biting, kissing. A grin breaks across my face. 

“Hey— ouch!” I say, but I make no move to push him off. 

He pulls back, eyes dark, and kisses me again. My heart hammers from the feel of his breath against mine. His fingers skim under the hem of my shirt and explore across my abdomen. It all feels wildly dangerous and forbidden, which amplifies my excitement. 

Too soon, he pulls back and leads me along. I don’t know where he is going or what his plan is, but I don’t really care because I’m just _so glad_ he’s here. 

He’s here and he’s touching me and the world finally makes sense again. 

We duck through hallways and doors until we reach some kind of exit. The soles of our shoes squeak against the dark tiles as we push through the door. 

When we breach the buidling, the night air is perfumed with the smell of salt and night-blooming jasmine. There’s a car idling on the curb ahead, and Vanitas hurries toward it. 

He opens the rear door and gestures for me to enter, which I do. He slides in after me, and nods to the driver, his assistant, whose name I forget, and then we are off. 

“Vanitas—“ 

He’s in a mood, despite the amorous display. I can tell because he’s tapping his foot anxiously on the floor. He chews at his lip and even in the gloom I can he’s biting them raw. 

The ping of a phone going off catches our attention and I realize mine is still in my bag backstage. Vanitas pulls out his and I can hear the constant buzz of incoming calls and notifications. He scans through them briefly then turns it completely off. 

My throat tightens as the reality of him next to me becomes more real. I’m afraid if I speak again I’ll break the spell and all of this will disappear, so I lean my head back and close my eyes. I try to catch my breath, replaying the past several minutes. 

Inhale, exhale. 

I hadn’t expected him to come on stage— hadn’t expected the spectacle of it all, but I guess that’s on me. I should know better by now. Vanitas can’t pass up an opportunity to shock the masses. 

To be fair, I hadn’t considered fully what his invitation tonight had meant. Catch up? As if we were just two buds grabbing coffee and shooting the shit? As if. We are beyond that. 

My clothes are soaked with perspiration and the air conditioning makes me shiver. I rub my forearms to warm myself and bump the bracelet Sora gave me. I remember his face blushing as he held it out to me, explaining it as good luck present, and that he would be cheering me on. I told him I’d never take it off. 

My fingers curl around the leather and the guilt is like a slap in the face. 

He saw everything that happened on the stage. 

Just this morning I kissed him, and here I am with Vanitas. I let Vanitas kiss me right in front of Sora’s face. I wince at the thought. 

I had planned to talk with Vanitas tonight, sure, but I also had planned to do it privately, without the eyes of the world there to capture the moment. I didn’t dare to hope that this meeting would actually turn into something more. Faced with the possibility that this truly may escalate gives me pause. 

This is what I want though, right?

I’m not sure what is happening between Sora and I. Whatever it is, it’s fragile and confusing. It’s not a real relationship, but it’s... something. Somehow, I don’t think making out with someone else in front of him is on the list of totally acceptable activities for that something. 

He probably hates me now. 

Why does that hurt so much?

When I look over at Vanitas, his golden eyes are already trained on my face. It makes me shiver. The memory of his eyes has been haunting me for months and to see them again, so out of the blue, so close, is disorienting. 

This is what you wanted, I scream at myself. Here he is. This is what you’ve been crying for since he left. 

So then why don’t I know what to do?

How am I supposed to act right now? Do I pretend this is normal? Am I supposed to pick things back up where we left them? Do I ignore what’s happened between us entirely? Am I supposed to pick a fight with Vanitas— scream at him for leaving?

I don’t have it in me to fight with him. I just want him to explain it to me. Tell me why this happened, say you’re sorry, say you’ve changed, _say you want me back._ Tell me you regret everything and you still love me. 

Do I actually want that anymore?

It’s overwhelming because in the back of my mind, I feel relief finally that he’s here: he is within arms reach and I can smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his body. Months and months of wishing for this reunion and and in the blink of an eye, it’s here. And yet...

And yet why am I hesitating?

He stares at me silently, without moving. I can’t begin to understand what he’s thinking. Behind him headlights pass and neon signs blur. 

Finally, when he reaches out and touches my cheek with the back of his hand, I feel the burn of unshed tears prick my eyes. 

_Why did you do this, V.?_ Why did you throw this away? Make this make sense. Please. I’m begging you to explain it to me. 

The car turns into one of the larger, more expensive hotels and the driver pauses at the drop-off to let us exit. Vanitas grabs my hand and pulls me along after him silently. 

On the way to the elevator, we pass by gilded fountains and lush foliage in the lobby. The tell-tale clicks and flashes of camera alert me to the surrounding tabloid photographers who must have been staking him out. I wonder if it’s always like this for him now. Always being watched. 

When the elevator door closes around us, he sags and leans against me heavily. This close I can smell the familiar scent of his clove cigarettes and the musk of his skin. The memory tugs at my heart and I can’t help but instinctively wrap arms around his shoulders. He’s so much taller than Sora that the motion feels odd now though. 

When the doors open, I release him and we pad down the plush hallway to a carded door. He inserts a metal keycard and pushes inside. 

The inside of his suite is massive, not that I’d had any doubt. Walls of windows line the room, and layers of gauzy white curtains blow in from an opened balcony. White linen, white orchids, the roar of the nearby sea. 

He walks to the center of the room and turns to me, hands in his pockets. The room is so clean and white that it looks like a hospital. He’s the only spot of color in the whole room. 

He doesn’t say anything immediately, just looks at me, and for a second I think I can see the old Vanitas again; the shy kid with no friends, the boy with a heart so broken he destroyed his body to match it.

“Hi,” he says finally. 

“Hey,” I say. My eyes are burning again. The adrenaline is starting to wear off. 

The softness in his eyes wavers and he removes his shirt. I don’t notice until it’s flying to the floor that he was wearing an old shirt of mine. 

Even after everything, he had kept them this whole time. I try not to analyze what that means. 

He indicates another room with his head, but keeps his eyes on me. “Gonna shower.” 

“Okay,” I say, sitting down on one of the plush white chairs. 

“Come with me,” he says. The way he says it, I know it isn’t a question. 

I pause, remembering my last shower with Sora just this morning. How had so much changed in just a few hours? 

Vanitas stares at me, bare chested, an eyebrow raised. He holds out an arm toward me. 

This has been everything I’ve wanted for so long. So why am I hesitating? I lift my shirt over my head and stand to move toward him. I can feel my hands shake. 

It feels like I’m watching myself from far away. Someone else is moving my body, tugging puppet strings, tangling lines so that when I press Vanitas to myself, I’m not sure if we will ever be able to become untangled. I hover above as I watch myself bend to to kiss him.

He responds quickly and kisses me back with a force that makes my tender lip sting. He bites me hard, possessively, and slides a leg between my thighs, pressing against my groin. I taste blood on my tongue as he kisses me harder. 

Every time I taste blood I think of Sora. 

I watch my hands flutter down his sides and dig into yielding flesh. Vanitas wraps my hair around his hand and pulls back, his favorite power move, and sucks onto my neck. 

I remember the purple blossoms from that first drunken kiss with Sora. 

Why can’t I just focus on the person in front of me? Why am I always thinking about someone else?

It’s a weird deja-vu. Gold eyes, blue eyes. Black hair, brown hair. Sharp teeth, soft lips. 

Who _do_ I really want right now?

I hold my breath and close my eyes tightly, letting Vanitas manipulate my body how he wants. He tugs me to the toward him and I feel his fingers fumbling with my belt. The sound of blood rushing through my head is loud and I suddenly feel faint. 

He reaches down and grabs me through my boxers. It’s so easy to fall back into this routine. So easy to let him take what he wants. All I ever wanted to do was give him everything, every piece of my soul. He already took my heart from me, why not take the rest?

Why _didn’t_ he take the rest?

I can’t hold back the tears now. My jeans are tugged down deftly, and I can feel Vanitas everywhere at once. He tears across my body like a hurricane, devastating, chaotic, leaving our clothes to disappear in the spin of the destruction. 

He falls to his knees, biting his way down my side. He sucks the pale skin at my hip before taking me into his mouth. I cry out his name and he bobs his head with the motion of his efforts. My knees buckle. 

Everything feels slow motion, like being under water. I’m drowning in him again, just like before. Vanitas lets me go, pulls me down. I am a wave straining at the shore of his body, nails grating his skin like the teeth of a shark. 

I thought I remembered what being with Vanitas was like. I forgot just how much it _hurts._ I hate how much my body still thrives in the agony. It always feels like he wants to tear me apart, consume me. I hate how much I want to _let_ him. 

Air hisses through my teeth as his teeth graze my length. He swirls his tongue around me, weaving magic spells across my skin. My back arches without my consent. 

How did we even get here? 

He rises back up and licks my mouth. I’m panting and can’t find the energy to move. My fingers clutch at his shoulders. I shiver as his hand closes around my throat, gently at first, and then tighter. 

I gasp at the pressure, and he moves my leg back, pressing knee to chest. There is no preparation before he enters me, and I hate the way I can hear myself moaning below him. The pressure stings, and I dig my nails into his shoulders. The pain is so sharp.

It’s so easy to fall back into this game we play. I just don’t know if it’s a game I really understand anymore. The tears are hot against my skin when they start to fall. 

When did everything go so wrong? It wasn’t always like this. 

Vanitas grunts above me and releases my neck to pull my other leg back. The change in position allows him deeper access and the pain and pleasure mix until I no longer know which is the source of my wailing. My nails scrape down his back and he sighs. 

“You. Are. Mine.” he says panting between thrusts. 

I nod and reach out to touch his face. 

“Yours,” I agree. He rewards my answer with a few quick strokes, and I keen below him. I can’t seem to catch my breath. 

“I was afraid,” he gasps, “that you may have forgotten that.”

How could I forget? He’s all I can think about. The memory of him burns me up, engulfs me. I am a moth to his flame. It’s so easy to let go. 

I feel the familiar tingling down my spine as he pumps into me harder and harder. My back arches off the ground, and he pins my wrists above my head with one firm hand. I’m so close already.   
  
“Who is Sora?” he asks between gritted teeth. 

“Wh-what?” I gulp for air, trying to focus my thoughts. Flashes of blue eyes and laughter.   
  
Fingers curl around my thighs and squeeze hard enough to bruise. “I said who is Sora?” He fills me fully then retracts so quickly that I cry out. I’m so close that it hurts. I can’t think straight, but I know that I don’t want Vanitas to stop now. 

“Riku?”

I don’t want to tell him either. I don’t want him to talk about Sora. He doesn’t deserve to know him. I can handle all the venom he wants to spit at me, but there is no way I’m going to throw Sora in his crosshairs. 

“Don’t know who you mean,” I lie. He increases his pace in response, hitting all the right places. The pressure spirals to an apex at the base of my spine and I nearly empty myself there between us. 

Vanitas growls and his body stills. I squirm beneath him, wanting more friction, wanting to finish. The pain of being denied completion draws a whimper from my mouth. 

He looks down at me, anger simmering beneath the surface. I want him to to just take it out on me. I deserve it. I want him to make me hate him so that this whole situation is easier to make sense of. 

I don’t want to talk to Vanitas about Sora. I have to protect him from Vanitas’ wrath. I’ll keep him safe. I have to apologize to him. 

I shouldn’t be here. 

The realization takes my breath away. 

I always wanted Vanitas too much. I wanted him without second guessing it, without thought or reason. I never considered that maybe him leaving was actually for the best. 

When he left, I shut the world out. I took my sorrow and anger out on the band, on Kairi. I stopped writing, nearly stopped singing. I shamefully collapsed into grief and let the others pick up my pieces. I grew comfortable with that sadness, that anger, and I let it redefine me. I accepted my misery. Sora was the first one to made me question why. 

Everything I’ve done until now has been because of Vanitas; because I loved him, because I wanted him, because I missed him. I couldn’t understand a life apart from him. 

I am pathetically predictable and every bad cliche I can think of. 

I treat Sora the exact way Vanitas treats me. Always dangling out the promise of something more but never really letting it fall within grasp. I use his body for comfort, as a replacement or substitute for what I thought I couldn’t live without. 

But I _did_ live without him. 

Vanitas bends down and licks at my jaw. His whisper in my ear makes me shiver. “So you’re going to just play dumb?”

It’s all so unfair. The guilt and frustration rear up inside me and I finally want to rip Vanitas down. I want vengeance. I want him to say he’s sorry. 

This whole time I thought I needed him, but I really just need the closure. I need to finish this chapter, shut the book, and start anew. I need to face him just one more time to let him know how much he hurt me. 

Why the _fuck_ did it take so long to realize that? The rose-colored glasses tinting our years together are coming off.

I needed the distance for clarity, and I need the closure for courage to move on. 

God, I am _such_ a coward. 

I shift under his hands and move to get up. He scowls as I force him out of me, his cock hard and red with need. I’ve never denied him before. 

“What are you doing?”

Panting, I grab my clothes and start to pull them back on. “Ending this. For real this time.” My erection protests against being denied, but I swallow down the lust and focus on the betrayal I feel instead. 

His eyes harden and he stands up after me, grabs my hand. “What are you talking about?”

I remove him and slip my shirt over my head. “I didn’t realize how bad of an idea this was.”

“Bad— what?”

“Why did you leave me?”

He looks frightened all of a sudden, eyes large. It’s an expression I haven’t seen in a long time. 

“Vanitas... when you left, I...” I don’t know what I’m saying. The words just start tumbling out. “I couldn’t imagine a life without you because you were all I had known. We grew up together. I loved you _so hard_ for so long but then... you changed. We both changed.”

He stares. “So what? That doesn’t mean we can’t still—“

“No. No, we can’t.” He reaches out to me and I try to dodge the contact. “V., we can’t do this. It’s not fair. It’s not right.”

He sucks in his breath and steps back. For a moment he is quiet, and then slams a fist against the wall. Startled, I look up at him. He breathes heavily, eyes unfocused. 

“So you’re leaving, is that right? You’re leaving me alone?”

“You’re the one who left— I’ve been here the whole time.”

“Alone,” he repeats. 

“You’re hardly alone, V., you’re a goddamn celebrity. You can have anyone you want in here in a snap.”

“But not _you_ ,” he says quietly. 

“What?” I say, because I’m not sure I actually hear him correctly. 

“Anyone I want,” he says, fist flexing against the paint, “but you.” Something in him breaks and I can practically see it. “Just like that.”

“What did you expect?”

“Not to actually lose you,” he snaps. “You are the one constant thing in my life. I thought you’d always just be here. Ever since we met- it was always you. You’ve never changed. 

“I never had a real home— shipped from one family to the next. The faces and rooms changed but the outcome was always the same. Before you, I didn’t know which way was up. I was so lost, but then I found you. 

“You, the cool older guy with a guitar, with all the friends, and a family. With every single thing I didn’t have. And you _liked_ me. 

“All I wanted was to be you, and since I couldn’t, I wanted to have you. I wanted you to be mine. I made you my home. You’re my one constant in all,” he gestures wildly, “this. You’re not supposed to leave me.”

“Why are you telling me this _now_?”

He looks so small all of a sudden. I remember the scrawny underclassman who used to shadow me after school, the kid I taught to play music. Suddenly he’s that same shy boy who gave me my first kiss in the shadows of palm trees years ago. My throat tightens. 

“Why are you doing this now?” I ask again.

He pulls at his hair and crumples into himself, slides to the floor. “Everything changes so fast...” 

“Vanitas...” I kneel down in front of him and place a hand on his shoulder. Sometimes I forget that under all that false bravado and smart tongue there is just a regular person. His mask is cracking. 

“Riku, if you leave then... No one will know me. You’re the only person who knows me.”

I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me or not. The fact that I can’t tell the difference infuriates me. “Vanitas, you’re the one who disappeared and ghosted me.”

“But I never actually thought you wouldn’t be there later when I came back!”

“Fuck you!” I yell. 

When he looks back up, his eyes are red. I can’t remember the last time I saw him look so vulnerable or sad. “Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone.” He’s gasping for air and scratching at his chest. The panic swells over him, and he searches my face wildly. 

“Vanitas...”

His body shakes and he curls into himself tighter. “I can’t be alone. I don’t want to be alone again.”

The emotional whiplash is giving me a headache. “ _What’s going on?”_

He’s talking fast, practically babbling. “I had to go, I had to take the contract,” he says. “I figured if I could make it— really make it— then I wouldn’t have to worry about finding where to belong.” He gasps for air again. “The quiet is so loud, Riku. I thought this was going to fix everything, that I wouldn’t feel so lonely, but it’s done the exact opposite. I hate it.” His voice is raw. “I hate it all so much. I hate this, _I hate me._ ”

He built up the walls around him so high over such a long time that I hadn’t even noticed them until they came crashing down. How could I have missed how much he was hurting? What kind of friend have I been? 

Yeah, he’s been a dick, but I’ve been neglectful. I was so focused on what he meant to me, what he could give to me, that I hadn’t considered that maybe he didn’t have anything more to give. 

Maybe we deserve each other. 

“Calm down,” I say. I sit down next to him and wrap an arm around his shoulder. 

“Riku, I don’t want to be like this.”

“Then why are you doing all this?” He shivers and I rub a hand up and down his naked arms. 

“I don’t know how else to protect myself.”

“You don’t have to keep everyone at arms length all the time. It’s not going to protect you.”

“I’m too far gone. This is just me now.”

I sigh and pull him up with me as I stand. “Get dressed, come on.” He follows warily. “Vanitas, you can always change. It’s never too late to change.”

“But this,” he points at himself, “this is what people _want._ If I don’t give them what they want then I’m _nothing_ — I’m no one— and I absolutely will not let that happen. They’ll leave, Riku. _Everyone will leave and I’ll be alone.”_

I chew on the inside of my cheek and consider him. He’s breathing hard, eyes unfocused, and it occurs to me that it’s been a long time since I’ve been the one in control. I haven’t seen him panic like this since I almost left the island for college. 

“Vanitas are you alright?”

He stands there, blinking, and opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. I slip my arm around him again and move him toward the couch to sit down. There’s a robe hanging in the suite’s open closet, so I grab that and wrap him up. His limbs are pliant under my hands, and once he’s covered up, he falls over onto a pillow. He hugs his knees to his chest and buries his head. 

I sit beside him and look out the dark windows. We are so high and the buildings are so spread out that I can clearly see the stars, bright pinpoints of white across the curtain of twilight. 

“Please don’t go,” he says softly, waking me from my trance. 

I look at him, pale and scared, and feel myself give in. “Alright. I’ll stay. But I’m taking a shower.” I stand up to head to the bathroom and his hand shoots out to grab my wrist again. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole.”

“Yeah, me too,” I reply sadly. 

###

After we are clean and I try in vain to get Vanitas to eat or drink, I manage to get him into bed. I burrow in next to him and watch him struggle to stay awake. He still hasn’t said anything, and the silence weighs heavily against me. 

How long has he been having panic attacks again? I thought he had everything under control. 

I feel guilty for not knowing, then angry because it’s not my _fault_ he didn’t stick around to let me help. Finally the anger melts like bitter snowflakes in my mouth as flashes of our courtship come back to me. I mourn the possibilities of what could have been. 

Maybe in another life we wouldn’t have gotten this so screwed up. Be that as it may, this is the life we have and there is no way to change where we are now. 

The steady rise and fall of his chest tells me that he is finally asleep. His body rolls closer and arms wrap around me like a child reaching for the comfort of a beloved toy. 

I press a cheek to the top of his head and hold him back. My heart still feels broken, but in a different way. Something has changed. 

Maybe you never truly get over your first love. Maybe that’s all this is. Maybe it’s always going to hurt like this. But that doesn’t mean it won’t get easier, right? It also doesn’t mean that I have to completely abandon Vanitas either—

... right?

The anger he shows off to the world seems so laughably forced and fake now. When did he start acting this way? What forced the change? How did I not notice sooner? Why didn’t I talk to him about it?

I close my eyes, running soothing circles over his back and try to remember what it was like before. 

He started pulling away when the first talent scouts showed up. They had approached me after a show and wined and dined me until the offer of a multi-figure contract was nearly on the table. 

Vanitas didn’t take it well. 

I wasn’t going to take it anyway because the contract stipulated that the record company would decide who ultimately would record the instrumentals. I wasn’t going to just _leave_ Heartless, my friends, like that... like, well, _Vanitas wound up doing._

After that everything changed. Nothing was good enough, I wasn’t good enough. His endearing cockiness morphed into something more insidious and the harder I tried to pull him back, the harder he pulled away from me. 

Was he really that scared the whole time? It was _fear_?

I feel tears slipping out of my eyes again. Endings are a bitch. 

  
_I live inside the night time_  
_*He said "I didn't feel like it's the right time"_  
_Well, I saw you with a new boy_  
_I'm lookin' for somethin' that I could destroy_  
_You know I hate it when you tease me_  
_I see you every night when I am dreaming_  
_Yeah, every time I see you right there_  
_You turn a dream into a fuckin'_ _nightmare_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is nothing, nowhere.


	13. Track 13: So Contagious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sora grapples with the aftermath of seeing Vanitas and Riku on stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter a lot, but I’m glad I can finally start to incorporate the song I’ve been waiting to add for so long.

**Sora**

  
My feet start moving before I consciously make the decision to leave. 

I don’t know where I’m going but I just have to get away from here. I need to put distance between myself and the screen that keeps replaying Vanitas kissing Riku. 

I feel so _stupid_. I hate that Kairi and Selphie are going to know why I’m gone and why I’m upset. It’s so _embarrassing_. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

When I make it outside, I just keep going in the same direction. I don’t know where I want to be or what I want to do. I just need to be somewhere else. My feet pound against the asphalt and suddenly I’m running. 

Considering I’m on an island, it isn’t really surprising that the road sidles up to the beach. The wind is chilly as it blows loudly around me. I slow and slide to a stop, sand spraying up around my feet. 

The area is blissfully deserted. The relative quiet of scene is disorienting compared to the noise of the Arena. I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. 

I make it halfway down to the water before I slump down into the sand. I hug my knees to my chest and hang my head down low, trying to push the picture of Riku and Vanitas away each time it surfaces. I want to cry, but nothing will come. 

I’m so pathetic. 

Today has been such a long day. I’m so tired that I could probably fall asleep right here if I wanted to. The sand is warm and the sound of waves are a lullaby. I’m sure my staying out all night would probably worry everyone though. 

Well, everyone but _Riku_. He’s probably off with Vanitas by now. 

No. Don’t think about Riku. 

I pull out my phone and scroll through the notifications. There are several from Selphie and even a few from Kairi, but nothing from Riku. The absence of his name on the screen is like the final stake through my heart. 

I feel hollow, like someone scooped out all my good feelings and left me to rot like an old jack-o-lantern in November. There is a frozen smile, but the candle inside is long gone. 

I might never get to be with Riku again. 

I’m so _stupidly_ in love with him. God— I just realized it and now it’s already over. I didn’t even get to tell him. Why is love so frustrating? Is it always like this?

This is the first time I’ve ever been in love, so I wouldn’t know. 

I’ve read about it, written about it, but to feel it’s heavy burden for the first time is unlike anything I know. 

My teeth chatter, but I’m not cold. I just want to cry, to let it all out, so that I can calm myself down, but my body refuses. Why can’t I cry?

I watch the waves rise and crash against the shore and remember kissing Riku in the water. The moonlight glitters across the waves, the moon a silver crown against the velvet canopy of sky. 

He told me to not get my hopes up— he said no promises. 

I hug my knees tighter to my chest. How am I supposed to face him now? I don’t know how to pretend that it isn’t a big deal and that his reunion with Vanitas doesn’t bother me. How do I fake indifference about Riku now that I’ve realized the exact opposite?

If I have to be around him knowing that he’s back with Vanitas, it will kill me. If I have to see them together, I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep myself from screaming. 

I’ve never been in a fight before, but just the thought of Vanitas’ smug face makes my fists instinctively curl. He had Riku and he threw him away. He had everything I want and he just gave it away— for what? Nothing! It’s infuriating. 

I wonder what they’re doing right now? The thought of Riku holding someone else— being held by someone else— turns my blood to ice. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to think about waking up in his arms just this morning. 

Don’t remember his stupid tattoos. 

Don’t remember the music playing in the background or the way the light from the window made a halo around his head. 

Don’t remember the way he felt inside you. 

Don’t remember the kisses.

Don’t remember the way his eyes look when he’s singing, or the way the room feels so much more full when he’s around. 

Don’t remember. 

Don’t remember. 

_Please_ don’t remember. 

If I think about him too much now, I’ll never be able to get up. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this, like the ground is crumbling beneath my feet. I’m swept away in a riptide of heartbreak. 

Somehow, I force myself to stand and head back toward the road. Hopefully I’ll be able to catch a cab for a ride home— at this hour it’s probably a toss up. I can’t go back to the Arena to ride with Selphie (if she’s even still there), even if that would probably be easier.

I walk toward a bench and tap in my coordinates, hoping for a match. While I wait, I replay every conversation I’ve had with Riku. I try to decode his every movement. I try to find a way to convince myself that this isn’t the end and that Riku will be back tomorrow like normal and Vanitas will disappear. True love always wins in the end.

I’ve never been very convincing.

###

When the cab pulls into the driveway at Twilight Drive, I notice Selphie’s blue car already parked outside. 

I hand over a wad of bills to the driver and step out. My nose is immediately hit with the perfume of the garden— a sweet floral scent that reminds me of nights spent outside looking up at the stairs. As I round the gate, I see three heads pop up in unison. Selphie and Namine are sitting on the swing bench while Kairi paces back and forth in front of them. As I unlatch the lock, Selphie bolts over. 

“Sora!” Her eyes are wide and search my face. 

“Uh, hey, everyone?” I close the gate behind me and look between the three. “What’re you doing here?”

Namine stands and grabs her elbow shyly. “Well, I was on the internet and I saw... and then I called Kairi and—“

“And I came here with Selphie has soon as I could,” Kairi adds. 

“ _Of course_ we are here, you big dummy,” Selphie shouts. She crushes me into a hug and I can hear her sniffling. She’s so quick to cry sometimes. “Sora! Are you _okay_?” She pulls back and her green eyes sparkle in the moonlight. 

“Wha- why are you crying?”

This makes Selphie cry harder. She wipes at her nose and her lip quivers. “Because you like him _so much_ and he- he—“

Kairi crosses her arms and growls. “And he just disappeared.” She drums her fingers against her skin impatiently. 

“Riku?”

“Yeah. I hoped maybe he came here to apologize or something...”

I shove my hands into my pockets. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Namine comes closer and touches my arm. “Sora, we are here for you.”

Realization dawns upon me and I gape at her, eyes shifting to look at Kairi. 

“Sorry! I can’t keep secrets from Namine, but I swear that’s the only person I told!”

“Well... Xion might also know,” Namine says quietly. 

“Gah, does _everyone_ know I’m in love with Riku now?” I’ve never even met Xion and she already knows my deepest secret. 

Kairi emits a high pitched screech that cuts through the fog. “ _Love_?”

Fuck. 

“Uh...”

Selphie chokes out a sob and throws herself into my arms again. I’m going to have snot all over my shirt. 

The twins are quiet and share a long look with one another. Their faces are tight with worry and the concern is sorta touching. I didn’t realize it until just now that they must truly consider me a friend.

“Wanna talk about it?” Kairi suggests. Her voice is low now, but I can see a million questions buzzing in her eyes. 

“Ah... I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay to be sad, Sora!” Selphie cries into my shoulder.

She’s so dramatic that it makes me start to laugh. Smiles threaten to break out on Namine and Kairi’s faces when Selphie hiccups from her weeping. 

“I think you’re plenty sad enough for both of us, Selph.”

She stands back up and dabs at her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I chuckle again. “It’s fine. Let’s just go inside before mosquitos eat us alive.”

The girls nod and gather their things. 

I unlock the front door and call out for Gran as we step inside. She peeks her head around the hallway from her room and waves. 

“Is someone crying?” she asks.

“Heh, yeah, just Selphie.”

Gran nods and shakes her head. She’s used to Selphie’s emotional outbursts by now. Once, Selphie cried for a solid ten minutes because she remembered a sad movie she saw years before. Not a scene or anything in particular— just remembering that the movie existed was enough to set her off. 

When I turn around, Kairi and Namine hesitate at the threshold.

“My room is up there,” I say pointing up the stairs. “Go ahead with Selphie. I’ll be right up.”

I head to Gran’s room and find her taking off her earrings and getting ready for bed. Goofy barks at me and bounds forward, nearly knocking me over. 

“Hey, boy,” I say, giving him a scratch. I turn to Gran then. “How has your day been?”

She huffs at me. “I should be asking you that! Today was the big day, right?”

I look down at the floor, giving the dog another pat. “It was... good.”

She puts her fists on her hip and I can feel her stare before I look up. “ _Sora_ , don’t lie to your grandmother,” she chastises.

Why are all these women able to see right through me?

“I’m not—“

“I can tell when you’re upset, dear. You’re an awful liar.”

I shrug. “I’ll be okay, really. I’m just... a little sad, is all.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

I don’t want to lie to her, but I also don’t want to get into the intricacies of falling in love with a guy I just met either. “It’s just...” I struggle for the right words before giving up. “Boy problems.”

I notice her eyebrows raise a bit, but then she walks to her bed and sits on the edge, patting the spot next to her for me to join. “Is that so?”

I shuffle over and throw myself on the bed next to her. She laughs when the motion nearly knocks her off balance. 

We’ve never really had a reason to talk about crushes or anything of the sort before. It makes me feel much younger. I fervently hope that her years of experience will have allowed access to a secret recipe for an elixir that might remedy this heartache. 

“Pretty much what it boils down to,” I confirm. 

“Our family is just full of hopeless romantics,” she says staring off in the distance. A small smile creeps onto her lips before she looks back at me. “Is it that spiky-shirt boy in that band you’re spending so much time with?”

“Riku,” I remind her. Saying his name stings now. 

“Riku! That’s right.” She pats my leg then leans back on the bed with me, pale hair fanning around her. “So what happened?”

“Ughhh, Gran, I really don’t feel like talking about it,” I whine. “I’m just really tired. I haven’t thought it all through myself yet, to be honest.”

She hums and keeps her eyes on the ceiling. “Well, I’m here when you need an ear.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“I love you, Sora,” she says turning to me. 

She says it so effortlessly, so quickly. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to say that same thing out loud to Riku like that— like a fact and not an apology. 

“Love you too.” I push myself up and peel back the covers for her. “I better check on the girls. Have a good night.”

“Sweet dreams,” she says, turning off her bedside lamp. As I close the door, she adds, “Don’t give up just yet. Love is one of the only things worth fighting for.”

I wander out of her room, considering her words, and stop to grab a pitcher of water and glasses from the kitchen. On my way up to my room, I listen to the patter of footsteps across the wooden floor. It’s been a while since the house has been this full. 

When I get inside my room, Selphie is splayed out diagonally across my bed while Namine sits on the floor near her feet. Kairi is at my desk, scrolling through her phone. 

“Hey,” I say, putting the water down. “Thirsty?”

Selphie bounds up quickly and pours a glass, then sits back down on my bed. After she nearly downs the entire thing, she sighs and looks at me.

“Sora, _talk to us.”_

“What do you want me to say though?”

Kairi scoffs. “Ugh, stop trying to be cool. Just tell us what you’re thinking. You’re kind of freaking us out with how chill you’re being.”

Namine tilts her head, considering. “Or do we have it all wrong? Do you not really lo—“

“Ah—- ah! _No_. No ‘L’ word again,” I shout, throwing my hands up and waving them defensively. 

Kairi stands up from her spot and comes toward me determinedly. She pushes me back into a sitting position on the bed. Her hands are firm on my shoulders as she leans in close and inspects my face, and holds me in place. 

This whole situation is so embarrassing. I feel my face heat up and I wish I had a hood on this jacket to hide from her in. 

“We’re a team. I’m your fairy godmother now, but I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

Namine and Selphie nod in agreement.

 _Ah_ , my three... good? fairies. Maybe this is closer to a storybook than I thought. 

“Are you okay?” she prods. 

I don’t know if it’s the weight of their eyes, or the soft pressure of Kairi’s hands on my shoulder— maybe it’s exhaustion finally taking over, but I slump down and stare at my hands. Everything hurts like a bruise but I just don’t know what to say. 

Words make sense when they’re written down on the page, but I’m never quite able to get them right when it really counts. 

“I... don’t know.”

Selphie darts across the room again and looks through the various piles on my desk. When she finds a notebook, she holds it up triumphantly and grabs a pen. She hands it over and smiles. Her eyes look so green in contrast to the red rimming them. She sniffles a little, and I both hate and love how well she knows me. 

“What?” I ask, playing dumb. 

She huffs. “You don’t want to talk to us, so talk to yourself. That’s, like, _your whole thing.”_

Kairi backs off and sits down next to me. 

“Write it all out,” Namine suggests. 

“And we’ll be here if you need us!” Selphie adds. 

It’s a little freaky how easily they can see through me. 

The fact that they don’t have to be here right now, but they are, makes me feel warm and safe. I’ve been so disconnected from my friends on the mainland since coming here that I had almost forgotten what it feels like to be in the presence of unconditionally supportively people like this. 

“Thanks,” I say. I take the notebook and shuffle myself back against the headboard. Kairi walks back to her place at the desk and grabs a glass of water. She finds the remote control near the pitcher, and turns on the old TV in the corner. 

Namine yawns, still on the floor, and Selphie rubs the spot next to her, urging her up. She smiles shyly then acquiesces, settling down into the mattress. 

Kairi flips through the channels, finally settling on a romantic comedy that came out when we were all kids. The three of them watch what remains of the movie and I finally feel the pressure of their worried eyes ease up. 

I look down at the notebook in my hand and am afraid to open it for the first time ever. Once everything is written down, it’s really real. I can’t go back and pretend like none of this happened when I have written proof. 

I don’t even know what I want to say. What do I even want?

Riku, I think back violently. I want Riku. 

How can I compete with Vanitas though? He’s so many things I’ll never be. 

I push the thought away. 

I twirl the pen in my finger and half-heartedly watch as the princess on the screen follow her lover tumbling down a hill. They meet at the bottom, breathless and bruised, and share in a long-awaited kiss. The sight makes my stomach tie itself in knots. 

I fall back mattress and close my eyes, listening to the lovers confess their adoration. I hear Selphie sigh dreamily and Kairi giggles. I’m curious if their attention is as divided between the film and current events as mine are. I clutch the pen and paper to my chest. 

It was so much easier to fall asleep last night, but I find that even heartbreak eventually loses the battle against exhaustion. 

###

When I wake up, it is still dark. The TV flickers across the room, casting blue shadows. Selphie and Namine are curled up at the foot of the bed, sleeping. Namine’s head is propped on Selphie’s hip, and the smallest of snores interrupts the drone of infomercials playing behind them. 

When I sit up, I see Kairi asleep on the rug, an old blanket wrapped around her thin frame. She has a jacket bunched up under her head as a makeshift pillow, and her phone is blinking in her outstretched hand. 

I wish they would have woken me up. I would have given them the bed. 

I roll my neck, trying to massage the kinks away. As my head falls to my chest, I spy the notebook discarded on my lap where I left it. I cease my stretching and trace the cover with my fingers. 

My chest suddenly hurts, and I feel the blood draining from my face. I fan through the pages, landing on an intimidating expanse of white. When I pick up the black pen and press it into the unlined pages, my body finally decides to open the floodgates. 

_I wanna be owned by you_   
_Every single day_   
_I wanna be owned by you_   
_Until we’re old and grey_

The tears slip out quickly, quietly, in fat droplets that warp the page. The ink from the pen spreads out in the salty blotches, and my hand shakes as I feel the words finally spewing out. 

_I’d never leave the house_   
_Stay quiet as a mouse_   
_I’m finally home_

I write it all down. The paper rips where my tears have weakened the integrity of the page, and the ink smears in ugly dark blotches. With each line, the sobs wreck through me, and I bite my lip to keep quiet. 

I sense movement and when I lift my head, through the watery haze I see Kairi standing on the rug. The blanket is bundled around her like a cape. The light from the TV is bright and hurts my eyes. I didn’t mean to wake her. 

She shuffles forward quietly, taking care to avoid waking her sister and Selphie, and comes to sit next to me on the bed.

I can’t get the tears to stop. I’m so ashamed and embarrassed that she’s seeing me like this, but even though my distorted vision, I can see her staring at me softly, with no judgement. Her kindness makes it all the worse. 

An audible sob wrenches itself from my throat and Kairi throws her arms around me, abandoning her shroud. She presses herself to me tightly and I hold her as if she were an anchor.

She doesn’t stay anything, just holds me back as I cry, teardrops soaking her hair. I try in vain to stay quiet, but I’m just so tired and it feels so nice to be held, to be understood. 

Her fingers rub between my shoulders and she hums softly. I really can’t believe she’s here with me instead of at home or with Riku. I owe so much to her, and yet here she is comforting me. Kairi changed everything the day she read my poetry, and the fact that I haven’t told her so weighs heavily. 

“Thanks, Kairi,” I say shakily. I pull back to wipe at my eyes with my shirt. She’s still smiling when I clear my vision. Her makeup is smeared, a wash of glitter and black eyeliner streaked across her cheek. 

A second later, I realize she’s crying too. “What’s wrong?”

She laughs gently and wipes away a stray tear with the back of her hand. “I’ve just waited for _such_ a long time for someone else to love Riku as much as I do.”

I’m not quite sure what to say to that.

“When we were younger, I had the biggest crush on him, you know? But when he turned me down and told me he didn’t like girls, I couldn’t just lock all my feelings away. So I decided I would stay by his side as a friend. I have hoped and prayed that one day someone good enough to take my place would find Riku—someone he could love back. Sora, you see in him what I’ve seen for so long.”

Her words are making me cry again. 

“Sora,” she says, taking a deep breath, “ _please_ don’t give up on him just yet. I know this is all new and scary but... I just know that you’re the person he’s been waiting for. I just know it. Vanitas isn’t it.”

I nod at her and the look down to the notebook between us. 

“Did you figure out what you needed to say?”

I nod again and flip through the pages, folding the cover back to hand over the words I’ve held so tightly to my chest these past few days. How easily I hand over these private thoughts now. 

She takes it from me and dabs her face with her sleeve. I watch her eyes flick back and forth on the page, lip wavering. When she finishes, she smiles and grabs my hand. 

I squeeze her fingers and hear the words overlapping with the memory of the unfinished Heartless melody playing in my head. 

I remember sitting across from Riku that last day in the studio, wanting to find the words and failing to grasp them. When I kissed him on the shore that day, I started to piece it all together, but that was just the bridge, and now I have the chorus. 

It’s taken a while, but I think I finally know how to finish that song. 

_Could this be out of line?_   
_To say you're the only one breaking me down like this_   
_You're the only one I would take a shot on_   
_Keep me hanging on so contagiously_   
_Oh you're everything I'm wanting_   
_Come to think of it, I'm aching_   
_On account of my transgression.._   
_Will you welcome this confession?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First song is by Mat Devine, second is my Acceptance


	14. Track 14: Birdcage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Things get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally can’t believe people are actually reading this nonsense. I love you all for indulging my self-destructive Riku longing.

**Kairi**

At some point, the tears take their toll and Sora and I fall asleep. When I wake up, my face is sticky with makeup and I desperately want a shower. Eyelashes thick and itchy with mascara struggle to open against the bright morning light. 

Selphie and Namine are still curled up together at the foot of the bed, and when I roll around to check, Sora is gone. 

Last night provided a weirdly intimate bonding experience for us. In the comfort of darkness, inhibitions lowered by exhaustion, it’s easy to cry and just spill your guts to someone. In the critical light of morning, it’s a little... weird. Not that I mind it, I’m just not sure how Sora is going to take it. I hope he isn’t uncomfortable. 

I meant everything I said to Sora last night. I want so much for Riku and Sora to work out. They complement and push each other in good ways. Sora is a gentle person, and after all Vanitas put Riku through, Riku deserves gentle. 

It isn’t fair to ask so much of a new friend, I suppose, and despite wanting Riku to have the very best, I am finding that I also want and need to protect Sora too. My heart is uneasy at the thought of seeing them both wind up heartbroken. More heartbroken, I guess. 

Riku is my best friend. He isn’t malicious, but he’s done... some shitty things. I only hope that he can own up for them now and set this straight. 

I really need to talk to him. 

The thought of the pitcher of water on the desk forces me up finally. I tip-toe across the floorboards and pour a glass, enjoying the way the coolness of the drink flows through my body. There is a mirror above the desk and I have to hold back a laugh at the state of my hair. I try to comb through the red knots with my fingers, but it doesn’t do much. Oh well. 

Patting my pockets, I search for my phone only to remember I discarded it on the rug last night. I shuffle over and grab it, turning it on to a deluge of messages and emails. I fight to keep my eyes open as an excessive yawn forces itself out. 

Axel and Demyx are worried, and their texts say as much. There is an expletive-filled chat with just the three of us to discuss The Vanitas Incident. Demyx is uncharacteristically serious and panicked, assuming the end of the band as we know it is near. Axel is irritated as always, but mostly wanting to just get his rage out verbally rather than physically. I tap in a quick reply to tell them that I’ll be home soon. 

I scroll through the other messages: Xion, asking after Namine; my mom asking about how the show went; pictures from friends— but still no Riku. 

Why hasn’t he checked in? 

Maybe he’s afraid of what I’ll say. He should be. 

A flagged email from Ansem grabs my attention at last, and I scan through the words with a growing sense of dread. He would like us all to convene today to “discuss the repercussions of last night.” I notice that Vanitas is copied on the letter. That must mean he’s coming too. We’re all going to be together for the first time in months.

Can’t see that possibly backfiring. 

I glance at my sleeping sister, her head buried in Selphie’s neck. I’m not sure what to do about them, so I just leave them to their spooning and head down the stairs quietly. The morning sun is blinding as it streams in through the front door. My senses are flooded with the smoky scent of bacon, and I suddenly realize just how hungry I am. My stomach grumbles to accentuate the point. 

When I reach the landing, I see Sora and his Grandmother in the kitchen. He’s prodding at a skillet while she reads a book at the table. 

She starts at the sound of my entrance and a look of fear momentarily crosses her delicate features. “Ah—“

Sora drops the utensil in his hand and walks over to the table quickly, leaning down and touching a hand to hers. 

“S’okay, this is my friend Kairi.”

Her eyes flicker from Sora to me and then back again before she relaxes. Her weathered hands gesture toward the chair next to her, and I take a seat. 

“Hungry?” Sora asks. 

“Uh, well, yeah. If that isn’t too much of a pain.”

He scoffs and heads back to his work. “Completely painless. Just give me a few minutes.”

###

Selphie and Namine wander down shortly after Sora finishes preparing a mess of bacon and syrupy pancakes. His Grandmother, Nora, chats with the four of us over breakfast, telling us stories about the summers Sora spent here with her, and how she’s happy to have more guests around the table again. Our laughter and full stomachs almost make me forget about the world outside. 

Almost. 

After our dishes are cleared and washed, Selphie offers to drive Namine and I back to our homes. While they head out to the car, I pause at the doorway and turn to Sora. I grab his hands.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I tell him, because I really want to believe it. 

He smiles but shrugs his shoulders in defeat. “Just have to wait and see.”

I nod at him and decide at the last minute to crush him in a hug. I think we are beyond simple handshakes at this point. He laughs as the force of my body slams into him, but he quickly squeezes back. 

“I’ll see you later at the meeting, right?” I ask. 

We come apart and he sighs. “Not like I have much of a choice. I’m not going to pretend I’m looking forward to it though.”

I give him a sympathetic smile and turn back toward the door. “I shouldn’t keep them waiting. Text me or call me or— I don’t know, just let me know how you’re doing every five minutes?”

That makes him laugh. “I’m not _dying_ , Kairi. I think every five minutes is a bit much.”

“I just hate this part!” I whine. 

“What’re you talking about?”

I gesture wildly. “Waiting to see how it all shakes out. I just want the happy ending.”

Sora scratches the back of his neck and toes at the floor. “Wish it were that easy.”

“I’ll see you soon, ‘kay?” I confirm. 

“See you soon,” he says quietly. 

###

I storm into the apartment, fully ready to fling the nearest pillow at Riku’s dumb face. How dare he ignore my calls and texts? I’m about to utter out the beginning of my planned rant as I stomp toward Riku’s room but—

when I enter, the lights are off. I glance back at the front door and see that Riku’s shoes are still gone. I try not to bristle too much at the implication. Maybe he just already came and left for the day?

Fat chance. 

I decide I might as well take this opportunity to get cleaned up before I go out to track Riku down. Just as I’m pulling my hair down and tugging off my jacket, the front door opens and Axel wanders in. 

“Uhm. Hello? Do you even knock?” I growl.

Axel looks tired and dark circles ring his green eyes. He drops his guitar case to the ground and looks around the room.

“Where is he?” he grumbles.

I sigh. “No idea.”

“What?”

I shrug in response.

Axel mutters something under his breath and crosses his arms. “What the _hell_ was that all about last night? _Vanitas?”_

“Don’t look at me. I had no idea. Where is Demyx?”

“Should be here soon,” Axel says quietly. 

The atmosphere of the room is decidedly glum, and I desperately want to take a shower and maybe a quick nap, but I think that’s going to have to wait for a while longer. Axel studies my face, taking in the day-old makeup and tangled hair. He raises a brow.

“Where were _you_ all night?”

I roll my eyes. “I was with Sora.”

His eyes grow wide in shock as his mouth opens to protest. 

“ _Not like that_ ,” I hiss. 

Maybe it's better if I just tell the guys what’s going on and get it all over with. They’re going to find out soon enough. If Riku doesn’t fess up soon, I will. 

There is a knock on the door, and I shout that it’s unlocked. Demyx saunters in holding a box of donuts and a duffel bag.

“‘Sup? Riku forgot his bag,” he says, but his voice isn’t the same chipper tone I’m used to hearing. It seems like the weird end to the show has screwed up everyone at least a little. Noticing the silence and lack of Riku, he adds, “What’s goin’ on?” He drops the bag to the floor and tucks into the box to grab an iced donut. I try not to scold him as sprinkles crumble off and cover the floor. 

I groan and press the palms of my hands to my eyes. “Alright, you two. Just shut up and listen for a second.”

I decide then to just tell them because I’m too tired to deal with secrets anymore and because going into this meeting this afternoon is going to be unbearable if I have to sit through the fit Axel is going to inevitably throw. 

“Here’s the thing—”

Keys jiggle in the front door, and then it opens slowly. Riku shuffles in, head down, and slips off his shoes. When he looks up and sees the three of us, he shuts the door quietly and shoves his hands in his pocket, waiting.

It’s quiet for a long pause and then—

“What the _fuck,_ Riku?” Axel starts.

Demyx frowns, a deep crease dividing his brow, and steps back. He chances a nervous look at me, then turns back to Riku and Axel. He chews his snack slowly. 

Axel curls his hands into fists and I can tell he’s close to losing his shit. I hope I’m not going to have to intervene. 

I study Riku’s face as he struggles to respond. He looks tired and sad, and I wish he could telepathically tell me what is going on. 

“I know I fucked up,” Riku says finally. “I was with Vanitas.”

I had assumed as much, but to actually hear him say it makes me wince. 

“I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry and that it’s over now,” Riku concludes. 

Axel’s shoulders drop and he makes a skeptical sound. “Like we haven’t heard that one before.”

“Riku…” I say. I want a minute alone with him, to press him for details and save him from this awkwardness. But I also want him to face the music. 

He holds up a hand. “I swear. It’s done. And since we’re at it, Sora and I are—”

Demyx screeches shrilly and his hands come to his head, abandoning the donut and letting it roll to the ground. 

“Jesus Christ, Riku! Keep it in your pants!” Axel is fuming, pacing the room back and forth like a caged beast. His chest is red where the buttons are undone, and I can tell that he’s really trying to hold himself back. 

Riku’s shoulder slump. “I need to talk to him, probably.”

“Uh… you _think?”_ I yell. The memory of Sora crying in the middle of the night steels my nerves and I feel myself dig in. “Riku, what is going _on?_ Vanitas, now Sora… what are you doing? I want to be on your side, but I don’t understand.”

“I wish I could tell you,” he says bitterly. 

Demyx bites his nails and asks tentatively, “Uh, so to confirm… you’re… _with_ Sora… _and_ Vanitas?”

Riku’s head whips around so quickly I feel like I can hear it. “No. Not with… either.”

I stomp my foot at his words. “What the hell do you call it then?”

I can see the color rising on Riku’s face as he stares at me. Betrayal. 

“Don’t hurt Sora like Vanitas hurt you, Riku,” I tell him. I try not to balk at the look of hurt that crosses him. 

Riku pulls at his hair, stepping forward between Axel and Demyx, making his way toward me. “Kairi, I don’t want to!”

He reaches out to me and I nearly step away. “But you _are.”_

Exasperated, Riku walks over to the couch and throws himself down, head hanging heavily in his hands. 

“Bunch of drama queens.” Axel pinches the bridge of his nose and grumbles something about needing a cigarette, and then he’s out the door again. I think Axel quit smoking, but maybe this whole ordeal is enough to make him pick it up again. I’m going to have to have a few words with him later. I tuck that lecture into the back of my mind for now. 

Demyx props himself up to sit on the counter and picks at his nails, trying to avoid the tension between Riku and I. He reaches into the cardboard box for another donut, ignoring the half-eaten one he’s dropped to the floor. 

My heart and mind are fighting over the best course of action, but at this point, I honestly don’t know what that might be. 

Riku looks up and stares at the coffee table for a moment before reaching out to grab a small black and white composition notebook laying between piles of remotes, controllers, and old guitar magazines. I watch him stare at the cover for a moment before flipping through it slowly. His fingers trace the lines on each page before he turns to the next. 

“This is Sora’s,” he says, and I’m not sure if it’s a statement or a question. 

“Probably?” I’m not sure why that matters. 

Riku reads on, eyes frantically scanning back and forth. I see his shoulders tense. 

“He wrote all this,” Riku says more to himself than either of us. I watch him lift the notebook close to his face to inspect the scribbles and his free hand balls into a fist. 

“What?” I sigh. 

His head snaps up suddenly. “Where’s Sora now?”

“Probably at home, I guess. He was there this morning.” 

Riku drops the notebook back on the table, then jogs back to where Demyx had discarded the duffel bag. Frantic hands dig through the mess until Riku pulls out his cellphone. 

_Ah._

Well, that explains that at least. 

“What’re you doing now?” I press. 

Riku looks up at me a little wild-eyed. “I just want to talk to Sora.”

“Tch. I think you need to chill out and think a little bit before you make this situation worse.”

“But—”

“Riku,” I chastise, “I was with him after you disappeared. You _really_ hurt him. You need to _be careful_.”

I watch him deflate a little as he stands. “How bad is it?”

“Do you really _care?”_ I know the words are harsh but I’m just so tired. 

“Of course I care, he’s my friend.”

“Your friend,” I repeat flatly. What the hell is his damage?

Riku fumbles for words. “I hope so.”

I’m so close to screaming. These men are idiots. “Riku, what exactly are your intentions here because I think we deserve that, at least, since this involves all of us.”

He pauses and looks at his phone, not saying anything for a long time. “I’m still trying to think that through.”

I groan. “What is there to think about? You either want Sora or _you apologize and leave him alone.”_ His eyes are so sad when they look at me. I regret having to be the one to scold him, but he has to hear it. 

“I need to talk to him,” Riku repeats. 

I glance at the clock ticking on the wall and cross my arms. “Well, you’ll see him soon enough. We need to be at the restaurant to meet Ansem in an hour.”

What a goddamn family reunion that’ll be. 

* * *

**Riku**

By the time we’re all walking to the restaurant to meet with Ansem, Axel is completely ignoring me. I have a feeling it’s going to take a while for him to forgive me. 

Kairi is hesitant to talk about much of anything, and I hate the way she looks at me. I’ve messed everything up so much. _Again_. 

I just want to make things right. I want to start over. Getting closure from Vanitas made me realize just how unhealthy the entire situation has become. I won’t abandon him, especially now that I understand what’s been going on, but I’m ready to pull back. I’m ready to fix things.

I really need to talk to Sora. I’ve started to text him at least a dozen times, but I’m afraid everything I want to convey is going to be misinterpreted. 

I don’t even know _what_ I want to say. 

I’m sorry, for real this time? I don’t deserve it, and you can punch me in the face if you want, but I’m so sorry? I want to start over? 

I wouldn’t blame him if he turned me down. I’ve certainly turned _him_ down enough. 

When we reach our destination, I can see Ansem, Vanitas, and Sora already seated at a large outdoor table. Vanitas is decked out gaudily, large black sunglasses hiding his eyes away. Sora sits on the opposite side, tearing a baguette into little pieces but not actually eating any of it. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Axel grumbles. 

We let ourselves into the fenced area and the three of them look up. I search Sora’s face for some sort of clue as to what he’s thinking, but he dodges my eyes immediately. 

Vanitas inclines his heads toward the group and takes a deep drink of some kind of red wine. I walk past him to sit next to Sora on the other end of the table. Axel, Demyx, and Kairi fill in the other seats and a waiter approaches with a drink menu. 

“Ah, so glad to see you all,” Ansem begins, smiling as the waiter takes our orders. 

The rest of us are quiet. I’m pretty sure they’re all looking at me, but I can’t look away from Sora. Under the table, I reach to touch his knee, desperate to let him know I want to talk, but he shifts his leg away at the touch. 

When the staff retreat back inside, Ansem continues, “So I’ll cut right to the chase. Your little display of affection last night has set the internet abuzz. Riku and Vanitas, you’re trending on every social media platform. Vanitas, your album sales are up an absurd amount. It seems like your torrid affair is going to be good for business.”

I wasn't expecting that. I place my hands on the tablecloth and look across at Kairi. Her face is flushed. 

“I think we should lean into this. This is an opportunity we shouldn’t pass up, especially with Heartless’ debut coming up.”

Vanitas is surprisingly quiet. 

“So what exactly are you saying here?” Demyx asks for all of us. 

“As you know, Vanitas is in the middle of his album’s tour, which will continue until next spring. We’d like Heartless to open for him, starting as soon as your album is finished recording. We’ll have to push up the due date, but from what I’ve seen it seems like that is perfectly doable.”

Axel chokes on his water at the mention of moving the due date up. “We still have, like, two more songs to write and record.”

Ansem waves him off, “I have full confidence you’ll make it happen.”

Vanitas makes an angry noise. “Do we get any say in this?”

Ansem smirks. “Not really. It was all spelled out quite plainly in the contracts you’ve all signed. We dictate touring and recording. Lack of compliance will mean forfeiture of all material created using Darkness Records’ funds, including all music, lyrics, and branding.”

Kairi’s whine voices all of our discomfort. 

I look back at Sora, who is busy looking anywhere but me. He furrows his eyebrows. I glance at Vanitas, who smirks across the table at Sora. 

“Excuse me,” Sora says abruptly, standing and heading toward the inside of the restaurant. 

Salads are brought out, and wine glasses refilled. Vanitas stands and says something about needing to use the restroom before following after Sora. 

Everyone but Ansem tenses at the departure of our two missing party members. 

There’s no way Vanitas is going to start anything in public. He’s not _that_ self destructive. I hesitate for a moment before throwing my napkin at the table and chasing after the two. On second thought, maybe he is. 

They’ve only been out of our sight for a few moments, but by the time I’m inside, Vanitas and Sora are locked into an argument near the bar. 

I walk quickly toward them and see Sora’s eyes harden. He lifts a fist and rears back. I’m not quite sure if what I’m seeing is actually happening. Before I reach the two, Sora’s fist connects loudly with Vanitas’ face and there is a collective gasp around us as other patrons gawk at the scene. 

Vanitas grabs his nose, sunglasses clattering to the ground, and flashes from camera phones around us are blinding. When Vanitad looks up, a bright stream of blood streaks down his face. The lights flicker like strobe lights, making their movements look jerky and disjointed. 

Sora is panting heavily, his hands still balled into fists and practically shaking. 

“Big mistake,” Vanitas growls. He shoots back up to grab’s Sora’s shirt as I finally near the two. 

I knock Vanitas’ hands away and step between the two, shielding Sora, as security approaches. 

“Cut it out, V.,” I say, placing hands to his chest. 

Behind me Sora tries to make another shot at Vanitas. 

“Gentlemen, we will have to ask you to take this outside,” a tall security guard says, placing a hand on Sora’s shoulder.

He shakes him off. I turn to see Sora and Vanitas share a dark look before they both practically sprint out the front door. I chase after, panic swelling, and the moment their feet hit the bricks outside, they’re throwing more punches. 

Kairi is facing the door and is the first to see the commotion. Dishes clatter and shake as she stumbles her way toward us. Ansem, Axel, and Demyx turn back to see what has startled her, but I don’t have time to read any of their expressions.

Vanitas tackles Sora to the ground, and he falls with a dull slap. I push Vanitas over from where he has Sora pinned, and he rolls to the side. Sora takes the opportunity to scramble to his feet as Vanitas starts to stand again. Vanitas has left a red impression on Sora’s shirt where his bloody hand once gripped. 

Sora glowers at him and moves into a crouch, reaching to smack Vanitas’ head. Vanitas wriggles out of reach of my grasp. I step between the two again and Vanitas’ fist connects with my jaw. 

“ _Stop it!”_ I hear Kairi screech. 

I flex my jaw at the impact and look back at Sora. He’s breathing heavily, blue eyes narrowed angrily at Vanitas. His lip is split open and bleeding. 

“Fuck off,” Sora hisses past me at Vanitas. 

I’ve never seen him angry like this. The hatred clouding his features makes him look even more like Vanitas. I don’t like the similarity anymore. 

The security guard is speaking over a radio clipped to his chest as he walks toward the scuffle. Vanitas tries one more pass at grabbing Sora, which I deflect, before he grabs a napkin off a nearby table and storms off. 

“You need to go, _now_ ,” the guard says. 

“I got it, I got it,” I say, grabbing Sora’s shoulders and turning him around. He flinches at the touch and dabs at his mouth, pulling red fingers back. 

I steer us out of the patio area and in the direction of the nearby pier, opposite the direction of Vanitas. 

When we are far enough away from the group, Sora shrugs my hand off his shoulder and walks quickly ahead of me. 

I follow him to the edge of the planks where he stops to grip the wooden railing. 

“Sora?” I ask softly. 

His shoulders are tensed and I see his knuckles turning white against the wood as his grip tightens. 

“Hey,” I say, reaching out to him. He jumps at the touch but I feel him relax a bit. I turn him to face me, and his eyes are wild and filled with tears. He licks at the cut on his lip and looks up at me. “Sora, I’m so sorr—”

He interrupts me with a shout of frustration. “Damn it,” he blurts out, tears spilling out. 

I open my mouth in confusion before he continues. 

“I’m in love with you,” he shouts. The world teeters and tilts as he balls his fists into the front of my shirt and buries his head into my chest. He pounds a fist against me weakly and I feel a sob tear through his body. “I love you, you _stupid fucking idiot,”_ he cries. 

_I've given up on myself and the things that I believe in_

_I remember the look on your face and I just couldn't believe it_

_I'm a sinner_

_Things are never gonna be the same_

_You're my compass-spinner_

_Still, you keep my heart trapped inside of your birdcage_

_Inside of your birdcage_

_Still, you keep my heart trapped inside of your birdcage_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is by Holding Absence. I am no longer sure this counts as a slow burn since it only took 60k words to have one of them say it but. Oooohhh well. Ty, ty.


	15. Track 15: The Last of the Real Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So that fight definitely happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not believing you’ve made it this far into reading this thing. 
> 
> *carves our initials into the trunk of a tree*

**Sora**

What do I have to do to get a break?

I arrive at the restaurant a bit early, hoping to catch Kairi before we are seated, but Ansem and Vanitas waltz in nearly at the same time I do. 

Vanitas grins at me, and it’s hard to quell the anger rising inside. I keep staring at Vanitas’ mouth. Bitterly, all I can fixate on is the fact that just a day ago that mouth was pressed against the man I’m in love with. 

Vanitas watches me in silence as we are seated by the host, while Ansem drones on about sales, and he orders a drink. That same evil smirk never leaves his face. 

I’m so frustrated and anxious that I grab at the plate of communal bread just to have something to do with my hands. I begin ripping at the crust, tearing the food into smaller and smaller pieces, pretending that the action will somehow cause Vanitas pain. 

Each time I look up at him I feel my blood run cold. 

Not much later I see the rest of the band round the corner and enter through the fenced patio. Seeing Riku sends a jolt down my spine and I feel my face heat up. My body wants to run to him, embrace him, kiss him, but my mind knows better than to do that by now. 

I’m surprised that he comes to sit next to me, and surprised even more when I feel a warm hand brushing my knee. I jerk away reflexively, too afraid to consider the implications. 

I keep zoning in and out of the conversation, but when Ansem mentions the band touring and having to wrap the album early—that their time with me is being cut even shorter— I try my best to refocus. I replay the words in my mind and it sounds like a door slamming shut. 

“Excuse me,” I say, standing quickly. I can’t cry in front of all these people. I can’t let them see how much pain I’m feeling. 

I turn on my heel and head inside. Maybe a seat at the bar will calm my nerves. I need to get it together before I do something stupid. I walk quickly across the marble floor. 

“Give up,” a voice says behind me. 

“What?” I turn. 

Vanitas is there, smirking, tiny white teeth peeking out from under his lip like fangs. “You heard me, _Sora._ You’re insignificant. You’re _nothing_. Give it up. Let him go.”

I bristle at the tone. “You’re the one who needs to give up.” I have no idea where this confidence is coming from, but I’m just so _angry_ and the whole situation _hurts._ If I’m going to have to be around him for the remainder of my time left with Riku before the tour, I’m going to go insane. 

My hands ball into fists at my sides and shake with the herculean effort of keeping them there. 

“You know he was with me last night? You realize that I fucked h—”

Something snaps. 

My hand reels back and I strike out solidly, punching Vanitas in the nose.

He crumples forwards, blood already streaming from his nostrils before he can make another move. When his sunglasses hit the ground, they lose a lens from the impact.

Everything seems to move a bit slower then. 

Vanitas grabs at me, snarling, “You bitch!” before raising a fist back at me. 

Suddenly Riku is there, and a curtain of silver hair blocks me from the attack. He’s so close I can smell his shampoo and the memory stings. 

Why is Riku here? 

Never mind. No time to think about that. 

From behind Riku’s shoulder, Vanitas and I lock eyes. I have a burning desire to scratch the golden things right out of his head. 

Our commotion is slowly gathering a crowd. Security approaches, and at the same time Vanitad and I both make a run for the exit door. 

I push the door open first and spin back. Everything is lost to a flurry of punches and kicks, pain and anger. 

I’ve never been in a proper fight before but some primal part of me takes the lead as I lash out. My knuckles sting where skin breaks.

Vanitas lands a few solid punches on me, and I taste the saltiness of blood in my mouth before I register the pain of his hit. 

Then Riku is back again, pulling us apart, blocking Vanitas from reaching me. I continue to try to hit him through the fence of Riku’s arms, but security approaches and then suddenly it’s all over. 

Just as quickly as it had begun, the three of us separate and the patio is quiet. 

Vanitas is gone, and Riku leads me away. There is a roaring in my ears as I touch my lip, fingers coming away stained red. 

When I notice Riku’s hands on me, I shrink away, too afraid of what I will do when he pulls himself away. 

I storm up to the edge of the pier and take a deep breath. I don’t even realize that I am crying until Riku forces me to face him. 

Everything is so loud. I can’t focus on any of it. I see his mouth move, but I have no idea what he’s trying to say. 

I shout in frustration and then, “Damn it!” 

The tears are really coming now. I’m too upset to be embarrassed quite yet. I might as well put it all out there then. 

“I’m in love with you,” I tell him, pounding at his chest. I feel so inadequate and weak. I remember the way Vanitas kissed him. My head crashes into Riku’s chest and the smell of him is overwhelming. “I love you, _you stupid idiot!”_

He tenses under my touch, then I feel Riku’s hands tangle in my hair, brushing it back. I think he’s talking, but I still can’t hear over the blood pounding in my ears and the sobs wrenching themselves out my body. 

“Sora? Sora?” He’s pushing my head up, searching my face, but it’s all distorted and watery. 

I slam a fist against his chest again and he pulls me in close, wrapping strong arms around me to hold me in place. 

“If it’s not too much to ask, could you wait for me just a little longer? I’m trying to catch up, I’m on my way,” Riku says. “Don’t stop loving me yet, please,” he chokes out, voice gravelly and thick. 

None of it makes sense. 

“I’m so sorry about what happened yesterday,” he continues, words spilling out quickly. “That wasn’t what I had planned— wasn’t something I intended. I wish you didn’t _see—”_

“But I did see,” I cry against him. “I did see and you… you _slept with him!”_

I feel Riku tense again, then he hugs me tighter. His lips are pressed against the top of my head and I feel him shake. “I’m an idiot,” he mumbles, voice wavering. “I’m a coward.”

I nod angrily. I’m angry at him for being so dumb, and at myself for wanting to just forgive him right away. 

I won’t do it this time though. I can’t. 

“Just leave me alone,” I whine. It hurts to say it out loud. 

“Sora…”

I slump against him, too weak to say it again. 

“I’m not letting you go this time,” Riku says softly.

The tears just won’t stop. 

“I read what you wrote,” he continues. “I read everything, Sora. Is that what you really felt this whole time? Are those things about me?”

I push back away from him with as much force as I can, wiping my eyes with clenched hands. “Of _course_ they’re about you. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you _this whole time!”_

Riku looks afraid, bright eyes wavering, hands still tangled in my hair. “How do I fix this? What can I do?” His voice is desperate and low. 

I don’t know what to tell him because I don’t know the answer. Everything is so tangled up. 

“Tell me and I’ll do it,” Riku adds, voice breaking. 

The adrenaline is wearing out. I don’t have much fight left in me. 

“Love me back,” I beg him. 

“I will,” he trembles. “I’m going to.”

It isn’t lost on me that he says he _will_ love me, not that he _does_. This is the closest I’ve ever been to having it though. The statement still stings regardless. 

His fingers touch my lip gently, wiping at the cut, and I notice his eyes are clouded with worry.

He kisses me then, lips brushing with only the lightest of touches. I feel myself shiver despite the midday sun as I kiss him back harder. 

Love me back, I scream at him in my mind. 

_Love me back._

  
  


**Axel**

I can’t believe Sora actually decked Vanitas. I’d be more surprised, but the image is just so _fucking funny_ that I can’t think about anything else. I wish I could have caught the whole thing on camera. God… what a missed opportunity.

Beside me, Kairi is practically self-destructing, yelling at the three of them to stop like a crazy person. 

Curious faces line the windows of the restaurant, and a small crowd has gathered near the periphery of the patio. 

When I see Vanitas punch Riku square in the jaw, I wince, but can’t stop an impressed laugh from making itself known. 

This shit is _gold_.

A security guard ushers them out of the area and Kairi moves to follow, but I grab her wrist. 

“Let ‘em duke it out,” I tell her. She struggles against my grasp. “Kairi,” I warn. 

She frowns but eventually nods, pulling away from me. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Demyx mutters pacing back and forth. He digs violence on TV but the second you start throwing fists, he freaks out. What a baby. 

Ansem stands watching the scene, face unreadable. “I’ll consider this meeting concluded for today. I’ll be in touch with next steps,” he tells us. 

He returns to the table to settle the bill, leaving the three of us to stare wildly at each other. 

“Whatdowedowhatdowedowhatdowedo?” Demyx shrieks.

Kairi wanders closer to the edge of the patio, looking out after Riku and Sora. She stands on her toes trying to get a better angle to see, but they’re far enough away on the pier that they’re mostly just vague shapes. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a drink,” I announce

**Riku**

I have never fucked up so much in my life. 

Sora has done something to me, changed something. I can’t let him go. 

I don’t know _how_ but I realize desperately that I have to make this right. 

We’ve been wandering around aimlessly, fingers laced, since the fight. He hasn’t said much, but the tears are finally gone and his lip is only slightly swollen now. 

I keep hearing him ask me to love him back in my mind. It echoes, reverberates through my skull, weighs heavily on me. 

I’m not there yet, but I think it’s only a matter of time. It’s killing me to watch him suffer in my silence, but I’m not going to lie about something as important as this. I owe him that much after everything else I’ve done. 

I just want him to smile again. 

We reach a bench along the path we’ve been following and I stop to let Sora sit down, still not releasing his hand. He stares out across the grassy parkway, eyes far away. I squeeze his hand and he looks up at me.

“I have a question,” I tell him. 

Sora tilts his head but otherwise remains silent. 

“Can I take you out on a date?”

His face turns red quickly, mouth opening in surprise. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked?

“Never mind,” I say, laughing. “That’s dumb of me to ask after the last day we’ve had.”

“N-no!” Sora finally responds. “No, it’s not dumb, I mean. I, um,” he wiggles his fingers in mine a bit, “I mean— can you ask again?”

I chuckle. “Sora, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

This time he laughs a little and nods. “Sure.”

“Excellent!” I say. 

I want to ride this momentary wave of eased tension. I want to start to make this up to him. 

“When?” Sora asks, taking a deep breath. 

I pause for a moment. “Would right now be too soon?”

He flounders a bit, looking down at his crumpled clothes, bloody Vanitas handprint at his collar, and then up at the spot I can only assume is slowly blackening on my jaw. 

“C’mon,” I tell him, urging him off the bench. 

###

I don’t actually have a plan, I just know I need to keep him beside me and I need to see him smile. 

There is a street market off to the side of the parkway, and we wander through, pausing at handmade wares and collections of bright sea glass and shells. There are stalls filled with candy, carved wooden bowls, mysterious trinkets, and jewelry. The buzz of conversation surrounds us. 

Sora pulls us to a nearby kiosk to avoid being rammed into by a man on a bike. He starts to browse the goods proudly displayed in the little cart. His fingers skin over a silver chain, marveling at the craftsmanship. Before he can fight me on it, I hand the owner payment and press the necklace into Sora’s hand. 

“Wha-? You don’t have to do that,” he stammers. 

I hold up the hand that isn’t holding his to indicate the bracelet he gave me yesterday. “Fair is fair,” I smile.

It’s so easy to make him blush. That is quickly becoming one of my favorite things about him. You’d think after all the things we’ve done to each other it would be more of a challenge to fluster him, but it is still pleasantly easy. 

“What should we do?” he asks finally. 

I take the necklace from his hand and release him for a moment to help clasp it around his neck. The small crown pendant hangs down in the hollow of his neck, glinting in the sunshine. 

Not sure what exactly about it appeals to him, but he likes it, so I like it too.

“Well…” I try to think. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date. Usually these things happen before confessions of love, but I’m realizing that everything about this relationship is probably not going to be normal. “Okay, I have an idea.”

Sora looks up curiously. I grab his hand and lead him down the street. We’re pretty close to one of my favorite places in the city. 

_Atelier_ is one of the last old school record shops left on the island. It's obscure and nearly impossible to find if you don’t know it’s there, but Kairi and I stumbled upon it one day in high school by chance. I have no idea how it manages to stay in business nowadays but I’m not complaining. The familiar path to its doors elicits a burst of excitement. 

I lead Sora through a back alley and down a set of stairs toward the shop. The building is crumbling brick and covered in some kind of invasive vine. Bells chime as the door opens. The inside smells of nag champa and dust, the nostalgic smell of my youth. 

Milk crates are lined up on long tables. The records inside aren’t alphabetized or in any kind of order. This annoys some people, but I think that’s part of the fun of coming here. You never know what you’re going to find.

Sora drops my hand and wanders up to the tables reverently. He fingers through the piles, inspecting covers and reading through track listings.

“What’s your favorite band, or singer, or whatever?” I ask him. 

Sora doesn’t look up, distracted. “You.”

I feel my ears turn hot. How does he just _say_ this stuff out of nowhere?

“For someone who supposedly gets embarrassed over just a few tiny lyrics, you sure do have a way of wearing your heart on your sleeve.”

Sora looks at me innocently, head tilted. “What do you mean?”

“You just… you always say what you’re feeling.”

“That’s not true. I didn’t tell you that I loved you until just today.”

I’m momentarily speechless at the easy way he says it, as if it is the most normal thing to talk about.

“See-- that!”

Sora smiles a little then, and shrugs, a hand reaching up to rub the nape of his neck. “I don’t know why. I only do it with you. I feel like I’ve known you for a long time, even though it's only been… what? Three months?”

To be honest, I’m not sure how long it’s been-- how short it's been?-- but it seems like both a brief flash and a lifetime. With Vanitas, it _feels_ like both, but since that is over now, with both a clear beginning and end, I can definitely measure the time at least. This thing with Sora, though, is different-- fleeting maybe, but definitely still intangible. It feels ephemeral, like a quick blur of intense emotions that will disappear any moment with the changing of the wind. 

“I don’t know,” I finally tell him.

He hums absently and continues browsing the records. I watch the way he touches the covers, and the way he wrinkles his nose when he reads something printed in small letters.

“What is your favorite?” he asks me, not looking my way.

“I… don’t know if I have a favorite,” I answer.

Sora shifts, scoffs, and puts his hands on his hips. “How can you be in a band and not have a favorite singer or something?”

Well…

I want to tell him that it’s because up until _literally_ last night I thought Vanitas was my favorite. I was too near-sighted to ever think to look beyond him. 

I’ve been missing out on so much, I think bitterly. 

I take Sora’s hand again and head him to a booth in the back of the shop. There is a turntable set up with a pair of large headphones so that patrons can sample albums before commiting to the purchase. I used to come here alone and listen to record after record after school. I’m shocked I was never kicked out. 

I flip through a nearby crate, not really searching for anything in particular, and then settle on an old album with a few songs I vaguely remember. I place the disc, drop the needle, then turn the headphones outward so that Sora and I can both listen. I turn around to half-sit on the booth, crouching, so that we are the same height. From this position I can clearly see Sora’s face. 

His smile is small, but genuine when the melancholy melody begins to play. 

_Strange infatuation seems to grace the evening tide_

_I'll take it by your side_

_Such imagination seems to help the feeling slide_

_I'll take it by your side_

_Instant correlation sucks and breeds a pack of lies_

_I'll take it by your side_

_Over saturation curls the skin and tans the hide_

_I'll take it by your side_

I study Sora’s face as he absorbs the words. His eyes close and he bows his head in concentration. I am in wonder over the way he focuses his attention on the music. I feel my heart begin to beat frantically as I take in the symmetry of his face, the blush of his lips.

_I'm unclean, a libertine_

_And every time you vent your spleen_

_I seem to lose the power of speech_

_You're slipping slowly from my reach_

_You grow me like an evergreen_

_You've never seen the lonely me at all_

Sora’s eyes open and he catches me staring. “What?”

I gape, unable to find the words. 

I want to say that each song I’ve heard lately has been reminding me of him, whether or not I wanted it to. I want to tell him that I can’t stop thinking about the way he looked yesterday, fast asleep beside me. I want to tell him that he’s making me feel like a boat swept out to sea. 

I am scared of this great unknown, and I am scared of what all these feelings mean.

“Nothing,” I finally tell him because I am a coward. “Sorry.”

_Take the plan, spin it sideways_

_Without you, I'm nothing at all_

The next hour is spent taking turns pulling new records and trying to guess which song is playing when we randomly place the needle on the disc. Half the songs are completely terrible, making us laugh, and half are actually pretty good. There is one in particular I notice Sora’s eyes light up at, and I make a mental note to remember the song so that I can play it for him sometime. 

“Are you hungry?” I ask him, noticing the time. “I mean, technically we didn’t stick around for lunch. Unless you count the knuckle sandwiches.” 

“Boo!” he laughs at the joke. “That was terrible.”

I grin at him. “I thought it was funny.”

Sora rolls his eyes and puts the headphones down. “Be careful, I might see past your coolness any second now.”

I clutch at my heart in mock agony. “You don’t think I’m cool anymore?”

“No, you’re a total loser, apparently. Why do I like you again?”

“Now it's only _like?”_

He looks flustered all of a sudden, bashful. “Why are you picking on me? I’m over here bearing my soul and--”

I interrupt him by grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles. “I’m sorry. I… just like the idea that you feel that way about me.” The admission has my tongue in knots.

Sora worries at his lip, taking a step toward me. “I’d feel better about the whole situation if you could just _say it back_.” 

I drop his hand and look away ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to feel any type of way.”

I wish I could put into words what I’m feeling, but the emotions are so large and painful that I don’t think I possess the language to give it form. My world has been so small. Until now everything has been darkened by an eclipse. I didn’t even realize that behind all that darkness of the moon there was a bright star waiting all along. To see it after all this time is blinding, and it hurts. 

It's like I’ve never seen the sun before and all that brightness _burns_. 

“Stop apologizing to me. And, anyway, well, it’s not that I _don’t_ like you. Clearly.”

He mocks my previous attempt at feigning heartbreak. “Oh, you don’t _not like_ me.” 

“Shut up,” I sigh. 

Sora leans in close all of a sudden, invading my space, “Hey, that is my line.”

The proximity has my pulse rising and I nearly kiss him, but then he walks toward the door. The sight of his back as he walks away from me triggers a hopeless feeling inside, and I am eager to follow him. 

When I reach his side, his palm is already turned out, waiting for me to take it. Fingers interlace and he squeezes gently. The simple gesture floods me with a sense of warmth.

I think I’ll like living in this sunshine. 

_I was just an only child of the universe  
_

_And then I found you, and then I found_ _you_

_You are the sun and I am just the planets_

_Spinning around you, spinning around you_

_You were too good to be true_

_Gold plated_

_But what's inside you, but what's inside you_

_I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you_

_But not as much as I do, as much as I do, yeah_

_Cause you're the last of a dying breed_

_Write our names in the wet concrete_

_I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me_

_I'm here in search of your glory_

_There's been a million before me_

_That ultra-kind of love_

_You never walk away from_

_You're just the last of the real ones_

  
  
  
  
  


**Drawing was commissioned by me from vani-e on tumblr! Thank you!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I added fluff kind of.
> 
> Songs are Placebo and FOB (again, sigh).


	16. Track 16: Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations on making it to final stretch! There are only four more chapters left after this one!
> 
> Thank you so much for all the beautiful comments and support. It really means the world to me to see that you’ve read and enjoyed this!

**Sora**

I don’t know what I was expecting, but getting punched in the face and then going on a date was not it. The only way this day can get weirder is if I sprout wings or Riku decides to start doing polka song covers. 

I’m glad I finally told Riku how I feel. It feels _good_ to tell Riku everything. I feel lighter now, maybe even hopeful. A hand flutters up to hold the necklace he clasped around my neck, and a renewed rush of love floods me. 

Riku is trying, I can tell.

We spend the evening walking around town, holding hands, talking. It feels good to just _talk._ We keep the conversation light, avoiding touchy subjects like Vanitas or the future. 

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring (I don’t even want to think about it, to be honest) but for right now we are together and that’s all that matters. 

When the sky fades into the telltale red of sunset, I realize disappointingly that our day together is nearly over. 

Almost as if reading my mind, Riku squeezes my hand and says, “Want to stay over tonight?” 

I blush at the words, even though the question is innocent. I can’t help but to remember the last time I was in his bed. He studies me with hopeful eyes.

“I, um, I don’t think I should,” I tell him. 

The way his face falls and shoulders slump makes him look young. 

“But,” I tell him, “you could… come stay with me?” 

I’ve been feeling guilty about being out so many nights lately. I know Gran doesn’t actually mind, but being away so much doesn’t sit right with me. Selfishly, I don’t want to let Riku out of my sight quite yet either. 

Riku’s eyes brighten at my words and he stands a little taller. 

“Okay,” Riku grins. “I need to stop for something at my place, but I’ll meet you there later?”

I nod. My smile is so wide that I’m sure I’ve opened the cut on my lip again. 

Maybe we can make this work. 

###

I take a cab home, replaying the reluctant way Riku told me goodbye even though he knew he would see me in a few hours. 

Everything seems a little too good to be true, but I’m trying to just let myself enjoy it while it lasts.

A part of me is afraid this is all a show. Any minute now, Riku is going to yell ‘gotcha!’ before going back to shove a tongue down Vanitas’ throat. Maybe he won’t even show up tonight. 

Maybe he’s just playing nice until the album is wrapped. 

When I arrive home, I exchange a few excited words with Gran. She’s in the middle of a book so she is eager for me to leave her in peace. The entire time I speak to her, I can tell her attention is divided between me and the page. She doesn’t even notice my crumpled, stained clothes, or swollen mouth. 

I give her a kiss and she waves me away warmly, flipping to the next page. It’s nice to have some things never change. 

I hurry to my room to try to make it a bit more presentable. I take in the bedroom, a place suspended in time. Suddenly all the childish remnants of my youth are screaming at me, and I have no idea how I’m going to be able to hide everything in time. 

I’ll bet _Vanitas_ doesn’t have a room like this. He probably sleeps in a fucking coffin. 

Man, _fuck_ that guy. I suck on my split lip, thinking of the impact of his fist. 

Ansem said we have to finish the last two songs quickly. After that, Heartless will be leaving with Vanitas. Just thinking about it feels like swallowing an eel. 

As I clear off my desk and return books to their rightful place on the shelves, I wonder how much time we all have together. I’m proud of the band for finally reaching this level of success, but I am irritated at what it took. I’m especially bitter that Vanitas’ stunt managed to simultaneously break my heart and boost his own popularity. 

Riku warned me that everything was a mess, and I don’t regret any of it, but knowing that our time left together is going to be measured in a matter of weeks rather than months is painful. I had hoped that we would have more time before he would leave. If we had more time then _maybe_...

From outside my open window, I hear the purr of an engine approaching, and gravel crunch. I take one last look over the remnants of my childhood scattered around the room and sigh. This place is a tangible example of just how far the divide between my world and Riku’s is. This is good as it's going to get, though. It’ll have to be good enough. 

I head downstairs and the dog is already waiting at the door to be let outside. He paws at the door, tongue lolling. 

Goofy bolts out the door as I open it. We step outside and the humidity is blessedly gone. For once the summer air feels crisp. I take a deep inhale and watch Goofy make his rounds, defending the yard. The yellow dog’s head raises, ears perk up, as footsteps approach. Goofy runs to the gate to meet Riku, barking excitedly. 

Riku has a large case strapped to his back, and he shoulders it off to bend over to pet the dog as he steps through the gate. His hair is piled in a bun on his head, and he has changed into a pair of comfortable looking sweatpants and a black shirt. If not for the tattoos running up and down his arm, he’d look completely non-threatening. It makes me snicker a bit. I’ve never seen him look so… ordinary. 

“Hi there,” I tell him warmly. It’s still a little hard to believe he’s actually here— that he _wants_ to be here. 

“Hi,” Riku says, scratching Goofy’s head. “Miss me?”

I scoff but can’t wipe the grin off my face. “Always.”

When he stands, the dog wanders off to inspect something in the flower bed, and I gesture toward the swing behind us. It's too nice a night to go inside already. The smell of honeysuckle carries on the breeze, making my mouth water. There are fireflies blinking in the garden like little stars.

“What do you have there?” I ask, looking over the black bag.

Riku picks it up and comes toward me. “A present,” he tells me proudly. 

“Riku…” all the gifts make me feel uneasy. It feels like Riku is trying to overcompensate, or using gifts to seek redemption. 

He holds up a finger to silence me and then unzips the bag. There is a guitar inside, glossy black and well-loved. He sits down on the grass, places the instrument in his hands, beaming up at me. His jaw is bruised and swollen. I want to reach out to trace over the bruise. He got that because of me. 

I lean forward on the swing and prop my head up on my fists. I’ve never heard Riku play an acoustic guitar before. Come to think of it, I haven’t really ever heard him play anything alone. 

“A song?” I ask him, blinking. 

He nods. “Close your eyes, okay?”

I purse my lips and sit back upright, closing my eyes. My pulse kicks up a notch. 

I hear Riku rummage through the bag again and then the rustle of paper. 

He clears his throat as he tunes the guitar, stings vibrating until they match the proper pitch. There is a pregnant pause before Riku begins to sing softly at my feet. 

_When I was lost I was searching_

_For someone to be the light to follow through the dark_

_No one was there_

_I promise you_

_When you're lost I will save you_

_I wanna be the one to lead you through the dark_

_I'll never leave you_

_I promise you won't be alone_

His voice is as gentle as I’ve ever heard it, warm and sad. I can’t help but open my eyes and watch him in the dark. His slim fingers pluck the strings and 

_Looking back at it I should have fallen apart_

_I can tell you the story of how I got these scars_

_I was young, all alone, heart turning to stone_

_No attention, no love, all I heard was "hold on"_

_It was more than I can handle_

_I never learned, I never learned from example_

Tears begin to cloud my eyes, but I don’t notice until they land in thick drops on my fists. Riku’s hair falls into his face as he sings, and I marvel at the way he plays, eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration. 

I can’t imagine singing to someone like this. 

_When I was lost I was searching_

_For someone to be the light to follow through the dark_

_No one was there_

_So I promise you_

_When you're lost I will save you_

_I wanna be the one to lead you through the dark_

_I'll never leave you_

_I promise you won't be alone_

I try not to read too much into the lyrics he’s singing, but a part of me hopes this is his way of talking about his feelings. One of the first things he told me that night on the balcony was that sometimes songs are the only way he knows how to make sense of his feelings. 

_If you write a song_

_I'll listen a million times_

His eyes fly open as he sings the words, and I can’t bring myself to look away, despite the heat flooding my face. I’ve never seen Riku look happier and more at peace than when he’s singing. 

_And if I see that you're drowning_

_I will be your lifeline_

_You'll never be perfect_

_Just know I understand_

_You've already shown me what it means to be a man_

I wipe at my face and find myself sliding off the swing to sit in front of Riku on the grass. We are close enough at our knees touch and I can feel the hum of the guitar through my bones. He looks into my eyes and it's hard to restrain myself from silencing him with a kiss.

“It’s really beautiful,” I compliment him when he finally finishes. 

“Thanks,” Riku says. “It's the first thing I’ve written in a while.”

“It’s new?” I ask, because I still don’t know all of Heartless’ old songs. I make a mental note to start studying up. It’s embarrassing and pretentious to watch them perform and be unable to sing along to the things I didn’t write.

Riku looks at my like I have said something incredibly stupid. “Well, yeah, that’s what I needed to go home for.”

“Wha-?”

He pushes the guitar to the side and places it carefully on top of the bag then reaches for my hands. We sit there in the grass, knees touching, and listen to the crickets chirping. Riku wipes away the stray tears on my cheek and pulls me in for a kiss. 

This kiss is different than the others we have had so far, and at this point, we have had a sizable number. There is no rush, no incinerating heat this time. Something overwhelming expands in my chest, and all I can do is press into Riku and hope he understands what I’m feeling. I feel his hands fall to my neck and his thumbs rub the sensitive skin near my ears gently. A weird kind of mania breaks through the fog of our kiss and I want to laugh or sing. I smile against him and he pulls back to press his forehead against mine. 

We fell into lust so quickly that the passion was enough to scorch us alive. Love is still new though, and the feather-light feeling has me feeling invulnerable. There is a new kind of security and weight to the emotion, like safety, like a sanctuary. I think I could walk through fire without being burned now.

Riku is my sanctuary. 

“I really love you, you know?” I wonder aloud. There is some kind of gravitational pull drawing me back to this man, again and again. I don’t think I will ever be able to let him go.

“Mm, yeah, I think I’m starting to notice that,” Riku laughs. He kisses my forehead and is still smiling when he sits back. He grabs my shoulders then and pulls me to the ground with him. 

We lay outside in the grass, staring up at the expansive blackness of the sky, trying to see stars through the haze of tropical clouds. Goofy trots over and places his head on Riku’s chest. I snuggle into his arm, closing my eyes and enjoying the quiet. 

At some point I doze off, and Riku wakes me up by nuzzling at my hair. 

“Ready to go inside?” Riku asks. 

“Mm,” I say, keeping my eyes shut. “Five more minutes.” 

He chuckles and then I feel myself being lifted off the ground as he hoists me up into his arms bridal style. 

“H-hey!” I chirp.

* * *

**Axel**

I forgot just how much of a lightweight Kairi is. She's been angrily slamming beer after beer, ranting about Vanitas, Riku, and Sora the entire time we’ve been at the bar. The more she drinks, the more she lets slip without censorship and it has Demyx and I practically _rolling_.

“Why am I surrounded by such idiots!?” she yells, slamming a fist against the table.

“Hey there,” I warn her, indicating myself.

She sticks her tongue out at me and rambles on. “Okay, dummy, I want fooooood.”

Not a bad idea. Maybe if she eats something she’ll be less likely to puke and I won’t have to carry her home. The idea of having to lug her around town at midnight does not sound appealing. I’ll look like some kind of kidnapper or something.

“To food!” Demyx shouts. He doesn’t usually drink much (despite his skill at making deadly potent libations), but he's completely stoned, as usual, so his joy at the mention of food is predictable. 

When did I become the band mom? Wasn’t that Riku’s job? I didn’t sign up for this. 

I grumble at the thought of keeping Kairi and Demyx in line long enough to walk back to our favorite late night eatery. I keep a hand on Kairi’s shoulders to keep her from swerving into anyone as we pay for our tab and head outside. 

Demyx keeps humming the same song to himself, over and over again, as we walk down the familiar path. Kairi hums quietly to herself, pumping her arms back and forth in a comical, drunken way. 

Luckily the diner isn’t too far away, and we arrive there with minimal hiccups and stargazing breaks. When Kairi and Demyx see the familiar neon sign in the window, their eyes light up and they practically trip over each other on the way to the door. 

I follow after them, taking the third seat at the counter. Since I’m the responsible one tonight and have to keep these idiots in check, I’m thankful that the rest of the diner seems to be empty.

A bored, tired looking guy in a 1950’s-looking getup walks out from the back and he instantly deflates at the sight of us.

“Oh, heeeeey,” Kairi says too loudly. “You’re that blond guy. I’ve seen you before.” 

“Uh, yeah, hi,” he says, pulling out a paper and pen. “What can I get you?”

Demyx orders pretty much everything on the menu. I think they’re probably going to spit in his food for that. I order Kairi a burger and a soda for myself. 

Kairi can’t keep her eyes off the waiter and she sighs dreamily at him. 

“Um?” he says cautiously. 

I snicker watching him flounder in Kairi’s drunken attempt to win him over. This should be fun. 

“You’re cute,” Kairi slurs, giggling. “Ask me out on a date.”

“Wha-?” he stutters as he steps back from the counter. 

“Aw, c’mon, you could do worse than me,” she says. 

Demyx is practically jumping up and down in his seat, biting at his nails excitedly. 

“Kairi, leave the poor bastard alone and order your damn fries,” I chide, wanting to give him a break. 

She pouts and leans forward on the table, violet eyes trained on the waiter. “Pleeeeease?”

The blond rolls his eyes and sighs in defeat. “Alright, what are the odds she’s going to remember this tomorrow?” He looks over at me expectantly. 

I shrug. “Dunno, guess you’ll have to find out.”

“Thanks for the help,” he mutters. 

Kairi presses her phone into the man’s hand and urges him to enter his contact information. 

“Should I ask you out instead?” She asks, noticing his hesitation. 

“Uh, I mean—“

She squints at his name tag and slams her hands on the counter. “Roxas. Roxas, go on a date with me.”

Demyx squeals and claps at Kairi’s forwardness.

I watch a series of emotions roll across Roxas’ face: irritation, surprise, confusion, and then defeat. 

Roxas relents and sighs deeply. “Whatever.” He types into her phone and shoots me a dark look. 

Kairi grins at him and takes her phone back when he holds it out. She sends him a text immediately and I can hear the beep from his pocket. 

“Smart move, dude,” I tell him, sucking on the straw in my soda. “If you gave her a fake number I’d probably have to take you outside and knock sense into you.”

“Who the hell _are you people?_ It is a _Monday night.”_

The three of us laugh at his question as he turns to slide the order over to the kitchen crew through the window. When he comes back, Roxas casually leans onto the counter. 

“We,” Kairi said proudly, “are _very_ famous musicians.”

Demyx snickers. 

“Right. Okay,” Roxas looks at me for clarification since it is very obvious that I am the only one in their right mind. 

I nod. “I wouldn’t say _very famous_ yet, but sure. Marginally renowned.”

Roxas’ eyes look so tired. I think it’s pretty hilarious how he’s able to express so many emotions with so few words. His face is very expressive in a way I would absolutely hate. This kid must lose every poker game he’s ever played. 

“Alright then,” he says, moving off to start wiping down the other end of the counter. 

“You’re not gonna ask what the band is?” I ask him. 

He shrugs, indifferent. “Doesn’t matter much to me.”

The little shit. 

Kairi makes a whining sound at him. “You’ve never heard of the Heartless?”

He shrugs again, not looking up from his task. “Not that into music, I guess.”

Who the _hell_ doesn’t like music?

Demyx gasps, a second too late. “Wait how can you not like music? Kairi you can’t date this guy.”

Roxas starts to object, “We’re not—“

“Aw, but he’s so cute. Look at his faaace, guys. Look at his eyeeeees!”

I snicker watching Roxas visibly tense at Kairi’s less than subtle attempt at wooing. 

“Isn’t he just the cutest, Axel?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me?” I yell over at her. 

She shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. “Thought you were the one that said you had good taste.”

“I do have good taste!”

Demyx is squinting at Roxas, tilting his head this way and that. “Yeah, I can see it. He’s pretty cute.”

Roxas gapes. Kairi high-fives Demyx and the two giggle like children. They both turn to me smugly, waiting for me to agreed with them. 

I groan at their antics but am relieved when a bell chimes, signaling that the food has been prepared. 

Between all the food Demyx and Kairi ordered, Roxas has to take two trips back and forth between our seats and the window.

He slides an extra basket of fries toward me and I look at him skeptically. 

“Just for taking care of them. I know being DD isn’t fun,” the blond explains. He shrugs and heads off to start cleaning booths in the back of the room. 

Huh. Cool. 

We eat our meals in relative silence, save for the periodic moans of ecstasy that always accompany trash food when you’re out of your mind drunk or stoned. 

When it’s finally time to call a cab, I pause at the door and look back at Roxas. 

“Thanks for the fries. I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other soon enough. Enjoy your _date_ ,” I tease. 

Roxas grumbles something and looks around to make sure no one else is around before he flips me off. 

Yeah, I like this guy. 

* * *

**Sora**

We lay in my small bed, my head on Riku’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. He runs a finger up and down my spine gently, humming quietly. 

Today is so strange. 

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the range of emotions I’ve felt today ever before in such a small period of time. I wonder if it is normal to feel like this when you’re in love-- like you’d tear down the sky, run to the edge of the world, slay dragons, if it meant just a little bit longer together.

“Sora,” he says seriously. 

I push up to face him. Riku stares at the fan, frowning, a deep crease between his brows.

“I don’t…” Riku starts. He continues his scowl. “I don’t deserve this.”

I feel myself flush. “What do you mean you don’t _deserve_ this?”

“I’ve been so terrible to you,” he says, still avoiding my eyes.

“Riku,” I sigh, “That was then and this is now.”

He shakes his head. “I just can’t forgive myself. I shouldn’t be allowed to feel so… happy, after all I’ve done.”

I collapse against his chest and groan. “Can you not do the whole tall, brooding, and handsome act right now? If you recall, that is what got us into this in the first place.”

“Mm, I think that was more a certain drunk poet’s fault.”

I scoff. 

“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life,” Riku says quietly, in wonder. “I got mixed up though.”

I am thankful that the room is dark enough that he can’t see the way my eyes widen in surprise. 

“Now look who is being sappy,” I tease.

“I always thought it had to hurt,” Riku continues, undisturbed by my attempt at levity. “I thought love has to hurt.”

“Riku…”

“But you’ve never hurt me,” he says, sounding surprised. “I don’t hurt when I’m around you.”

I consider his confession. “I will never hurt you on purpose. I promise.”

Riku wraps his arm around me and pulls me tight, taking a deep breath. “You’re terrifying, you know that?”

“Me?” I laugh.

I feel him nodding. “Literally the scariest person I’ve ever met.”

I scoff. “Well thanks? Coming from someone who dated _Vanitas--”_ His body tenses. 

“I didn’t mean… It's just…” He struggles for the words. “I spent my whole life thinking up is down and left is right. I didn’t realize it was so flipped around. I’m having a hard time orienting myself now and… I’m scared you’ll be gone by the time I can see straight.”

I can’t see myself being unable to wait for Riku. He could turn me down a hundred times and I’d probably still be hoping the next time would be different. I could never hurt him-- I want to protect him. I don’t know what to say to convince him of that though. 

“What if I can’t ever catch up… What if I’m broken?” his voice is so low I can barely hear it when it begins to break. “You shouldn’t be with me, Sora. I’m going to break your heart.”

Regardless of his warning, right now in the cradle of his arms, the future doesn’t scare me at all.

_You can tell me anything_

_I won't always agree_

_But I'll be glad you didn't bury it inside like me_

_When I was lost I was searching_

_For someone to be the light to follow through the dark_

_No one was there, so I promise you_

_When you're lost I will save you_

_I wanna be the one to lead you through the dark_

_I'll never leave you_

_These are my wounds to overcome_

_Even if the fight has just begun, I have won_

_These are my wounds to overcome_

_Even if the fight has just begun, I have won_

_When I was lost I was searching_

_For someone to be the light to follow through the dark_

_No one was there, so I promise you_

_When you're lost I will save you._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Our Last Night.
> 
> You definitely don’t need to read into the lyrics in this story whatsoever :’)
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5CUm5wYBlhWeJy47wPC96r?si=gSl9sXeWRlm5OQSfakImPA
> 
> Check out the above official playlist! May contain spoilers. 😘


	17. Track 17: Blue and Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s start wrapping up some loose ends, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me + You = Forever

**Kairi**

The morning rears itself with a searing pain in my head and a stale, cottony feeling in my mouth. I’m in bed still dressed in yesterday’s clothes and shoes. I vaguely remember coming back but it’s all hazy. 

I sit up and the room spins. I should not have drank so much last night, but I just needed a day  _ off.  _ I yawn and reach over to grab the glass of water someone must have put out for me last night and drink it down greedily. 

My phone is plugged in surprisingly, so I pull it off the cord and open it to try to piece together the previous night. 

There is a new name at the top of the list.  _ Roxas _ . I close my eyes and focus on the name. 

Roxas. That’s right— the cute guy at the diner.

Slightly mortified but equally pleased, I recall him accepting my offer of a date. 

I scroll through the text logs with him, thankful that even while inebriated I apparently can still write in full sentences. We’ve made plans to meet outside the diner after he gets off work this afternoon, and the excitement momentarily squashes the aching in my head. 

I need coffee and more water before I can start trying to join the world of the living. I head into the living room and am surprised to see Axel asleep on the couch, his jacket tossed over his shoulder like a blanket. I didn’t realize he stayed. 

Rather than wake him, I try to quietly grab my drinks and dig out some pain relievers from my bag. I sit down for a moment when the dizziness hits again, and by the time I slowly rise, I notice that Axel is now sitting up as well. 

“Hey,” I tell him, voice scratchy. I have a tendency to yell a lot when I’m drinking so I’m not surprised at the raw sound. 

He walks over into the kitchen and leans against the counter near me. “How are you feeling?” I’m surprised at the genuine concern in his voice.

“I’ll live,” I tell him. 

By then the coffee is nearly done, so he walks over and grabs the cup and sits it in front of me. 

“Thanks,” I say hesitantly. Why is he being so nice? “What’re you still doing here?”

He raises a brow and crosses his arms. “Really? You were a total mess last night. I didn’t want to just  _ leave  _ you here in case you got sick.”

Oh. 

“Erm, well thank you. You didn’t have to do that though,” I remind him. 

The way he smiles back makes my pulse quicken. He’s visibly tired, dark circles around his bright eyes and his hair a tangle of knots, but he seems happy. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” I ask him, frowning. I blow on the coffee and take a tentative sip. It scalds my mouth. 

“Smiling like what?” Axel says defensively. He pushes off the counter and makes a show of glowering in my direction. 

I sigh and roll my eyes at him. “Nevermind.”

  
  
  


* * *

**Riku**

When I roll over, I don’t feel Sora. My fingers reach out instinctively searching for him but only find empty sheets. I sit up quickly and scan the room for him. 

He’s hunched over his desk, studying his laptop’s screen. 

“Morning,” I tell him. 

He looks over, alarmed, and red-eyed. A wave of panic washes over me as I take in his tired face. 

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his mouth to speak but decides to unplug the laptop and bring it back to the bed with him instead. He curls up next to me and hands the laptop over, gesturing to an article he’s been reading. He leans his head on my shoulder as I read the headline. 

**Heartless? Heartbroken!**

Below is the latest entry in a large entertainment news site’s gossip section. There is a picture of yesterday’s fight blown up with bright yellow letters spelling out  **SORA LOSER!** next to Sora’s face. 

I glance over at him nervously, but I can’t read his expression, so I turn back to finish the article. It goes into detail of yesterday’s lunch using overly pretentious language and terrible puns to hook the reader in. Regardless of how it says it, the author’s underlying story here is clear: a nobody named Sora is stirring up shit in the Vanitas x Riku love bubble, and he must be taken down at all costs. 

I feel flushed taking in the bold claims. According to the author, Sora is a scorned ex-lover out to ruin the lives of newly reunited alternative recording artists, Vanitas and Riku. Sora attacked Vanitas in plain view of the public in the middle of the day while the couple were out for a sunshine-filled date. Poor Vanitas struggled valiantly to protect Riku’s honor against the vile words Sora spat toward him. 

It’s all  _ wrong _ . Nothing that is written is how any of it happened. Yes, Sora did technically punch Vanitas first, sure, but it’s not like Vanitas didn’t have it coming. I don’t even know what he did to push Sora over the edge but I’m  _ sure _ he had it coming. 

“Sora, I— I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry you had to read that. It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

He’s scrolling on his phone now and holds it closer so I can inspect the screen. There are hundreds of new emails with aggressive headlines, anonymous text messages with threats on his life, and his social media account is a veritable deluge of hate. 

“They already know who I am. How’d they find me so quickly?” Sora says quietly. His voice is flat, tired. 

“I don’t… I don’t know. They just… find things out sometimes.” I shut the laptop, push it to the side, and turn to hold Sora’s head between my hands. He avoids looking at me. “Sora, it’ll be fine. We will sort it out.”

He sighs deeply and deflates. “I shouldn’t have punched Vanitas.”

I smirk and press a kiss to his forehead. “No, you definitely should have. He’s an asshole. ‘Sides I thought it was hot.”

Sora’s mouth quirks, but he remains looking at the phone in his hand dismally. “Do you think I need to be worried?”

I’m not sure, to be honest. This is new territory. I’m used to a modicum of fame, but nothing like this, nothing like what Vanitas must deal with. I recall the flash of cameras surrounding him as we retreated to his hotel the other night. Is that what is coming?

“I can stay here with you, if you want,” I offer. 

“You can’t be here  _ all _ the time, Riku. And anyway, you’re  _ leaving  _ soon.”

I narrow my eyes. “Yes,  _ we _ will leave when we finish this album, but then there will be security on tour so you don’t have to worry. If they can keep Vanitas from getting murdered this whole time, you’ll be no problem.”

Sora sighs and finally looks over at me. “Riku, I’m not going to go  _ on tour  _ with you. There’s no reason for me to be there.”

“What?” I shout. “Of course there is— you’re one of us, you should be there. I  _ want _ you to be there.”

He rakes through his messy hair. “I can’t just  _ leave _ , Riku. I’ve got responsibilities here.”

I stare at him for a long moment, but he doesn’t back down. “Let’s not make any decisions right away,” I say, stalling, because I’m not sure how to process this information. 

It didn’t occur to me that he was considering not coming with us.

Who knows how long we will be gone for?

“Fine,” Sora relents, and scoots onto my lap. I wrap arms around him and he rests his head against my chest. “I didn’t sleep very much.”

“You can go back to sleep,” I tell him, lips pressed against the top of his head. 

He yawns and nods. “Maybe for a little while, if you don’t mind.”

I fall back with him in my arms and he snuggles closer. “I‘ll watch over you while you dream.”

He laughs weakly and nuzzles into my neck. “You’re so lame. Love you, Riku.”

I hold him tighter and feel my heart thumping painfully. Each time he says it, my mouth feels thick with guilt and doubt, but it makes me so happy that it’s hard to keep from laughing.

Who would’ve thought that love was painless this whole time?

* * *

**Axel**

I’m not  _ worried _ about Kairi. It’s just that her last date sucked and if Roxas doesn’t show up or makes her cry for some reason, I want to be there to punch him in the face. 

I’m genuinely surprised Kairi hasn’t noticed me skulking behind her this whole time. I make a mental note to yell at her about being more aware of her surroundings as I watch her head into the diner. I stay pressed against the exterior and pull down my knitted cap to make sure my hair is obscured. While I wait for them to come back out, I scroll idly through the day’s news.

There are a bunch of texts from Demyx to the group chat about Sora. Seems like he’s the new tabloid darling of the day.  _ Shit _ . I look up his name in the search browser and pages of gossip columns flood the first five pages.

_ Shiiiit _ . 

While I’m in the middle of reading an expletive-filled comment thread, I notice the door to my left open. I pocket my phone and watch through the corner of my eye as Roxas and Kairi come out. 

He’s changed out of the terrible work uniform and is wearing shredded capris and a weirdly charming button-up with a pattern of lilac flowers on it. Roxas says something to Kairi that makes her laugh, and he holds out his hand for her to hold, which she skips forward happily to take. 

I’m not sure why, but even after I see them head off in high spirits, I keep following them at a safe distance. 

I follow and watch them eat tacos from a food truck, watch Roxas let Kairi try bites of his meal. I watch Kairi down glass after glass of water when the salsa is too spicy.

I follow them toward the beach, staying back near the legs of the pier. I watch Roxas pick Kairi up and spin her to place her feet in the surf. I watch Kairi scream as the cold water splashes up her thin legs, and as she bends down to splash water up at Roxas. 

I keep following when they stop at a car, grab a skateboard, and wander to the skate park. I watch as Roxas hold’s Kairi’s hands as she places one foot tentatively on the board. I watch Kairi frown in concentration, her body shaking with the new effort required for this new kind of balance. 

Kairi wobbles on the skateboard and her laugh is loud enough that I can hear it from my spot near the gate. Roxas is grinning at her when I chance a look, and their fingers are wound tightly as he walks in front of her backward, guiding her, as she pushes the skateboard forward.

It’s a good date, it seems, so I’m not sure  _ why _ I am still here watching. 

Kairi puts too much weight on her toes suddenly and she flips the board forward for a nosedive. She shouts wildly and flails but Roxas is quick to grab her. The two laugh, bodies pressed tightly in an embrace, and when they separate they share a long look. 

I force myself to look away when I see him lean in for the kiss. 

* * *

**Vanitas**

I lounge across the couch in my hotel room, bag of ice held up to my broken nose. I can hear Ventus typing away at the table behind me, but otherwise the room is weirdly quiet. 

I reach for the remote control and turn on the television, searching for the music channels. It takes a while with all the goddamn commercials, but I finally find one and let it drone on while I read through emails. 

“Hey, just sent you something. Might want to have a look,” Ventus calls over. 

I grumble at him and search for his name in my contacts. There is a link to an entertainment website and when I click I curse seeing a photo of fucking Sora decking me in the face. 

“What the fuck, Ven,” I yell at him. “Fuck you.”

He snickers but then says, “As much as I love when you talk dirty to me, keep reading. You’ll probably want to.”

I roll my eyes though he can’t see and skim over the paragraphs. 

“Holy shit— they’re totally ripping him apart!” I laugh. 

Ventus hums and then is back to typing at the computer. “Yeah, looks like the fans are on your side yet again.” The blond sighs and I can hear him stop typing for just a moment before he digs back in more ferociously. 

I smirk and try not to wince when the movement makes my nose throb. 

Maybe I won’t have to do much to destroy Sora after all. Maybe I won’t have to do  _ anything  _ for once. Maybe Riku will come back, tail between his legs, and I won’t have to lift a finger. 

* * *

**Sora**

I’ve been dozing off and on all day. Each time I wake up, a sick feeling twists inside my stomach when I remember what’s happening online. 

I’ve never been  _ cancelled  _ before. 

Each time I wake up, Riku is still here. He kisses the nightmares away and holds me until I fall back asleep again. 

Eventually when I wake up, it’s dark outside and Riku urges me to get something to eat. 

“Nora is worried that you haven’t been down all day,” Riku says. 

“You talked?”

Riku looks at me like I’ve said something incredibly stupid. “Well, I am a guest in her home. And I figured if I was going to be here all day I should probably properly tell her hello— plus that and I had to eat at some point.”

I feel guilty keeping him locked up here in my room while I stress sleep. “Sorry,” I mumble. 

“That’s not— It's fine. Are you feeling any better?”

I shake my head and my eyes fall onto the laptop. I make a move to grab it but Riku grabs my hands and stops me. 

“I think you should take a break with this,” he tells me, voice thick with worry. “Nothing good is going to come of you reading that shit.”

But I can’t  _ help it _ . Just knowing that the words are out there, that people actively  _ hate me _ , is enough to make me want to vomit. I’ve been able to remain relatively anonymous my entire life, and now I fear every dark secret is about to be brought out for the entire world to see. I curl up into a ball and rest my head on my knees. 

“No one will even remember this in a week,” Riku says lightly. 

_ “I’ll remember,”  _ I tell him. This might not be a big deal for him, after all he  _ is  _ the one pursuing stardom professionally, but to me it weighs like an anchor. 

Riku frowns. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve just… I’ve never had so many people  _ hate me _ .”

“This is my fault,” Riku whispers. He looks down at his hands in his lap and flexes his fingers. “I dragged you into all of this. I should have been there to protect you.”

“I’m not a  _ child _ , Riku. Give me some credit.”

He looks up, startled for a moment. “I didn’t mean—“

“It was my decision to punch Vanitas and it was my decision to chase after you even after you made it very clear that it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

Riku tries to interrupt but I talk over him. 

“I just haven’t had time to consider this part. I guess it’s stupid to think nothing would change… that we’d all be here on the island forever. I didn’t think it would all happen so  _ fast.” _

“Sora,” he says firmly. “Sora, we are just going on a tour for a while, we’ll be back here eventually.”

I notice my hands shaking and fist them into the blankets to block them from my sight. I don’t want to have this conversation right now. I want to just enjoy whatever time we have left together while I can. I want to memorize Riku’s face before he’s gone. I want to ask him a million questions because I want to know the deepest parts of his soul. I want to listen to him laugh and talk and sing. 

I don’t want to think about what comes later. 

I know I’m not going to go with them. It hurts to think about it, to acknowledge it, and leave it unsaid. But it’s worth it to just have this moment for now, for just a little while longer. Even if the future I want is nothing but a mirage, I can still enjoy the view. 

I rise to my knees and reach for Riku desperately. Our mouths find each other and I pull him back with me against the mattress. 

I need him so much closer. 

  
  


_ And it's all in how you mix the two _

_ And it starts just where the light exists _

_ It's a feeling that you cannot miss _

_ And it burns a hole _

_ Through everyone that feels it _

_ Well, you're never gonna find it _

_ If you're looking for it _

_ Won't come your way, yeah _

_ Well, you'll never find it _

_ If you're looking for it _

_ Should've done something but I've done it enough _

_ By the way your hands were shaking _

_ Rather waste some time with you _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was short but... did you really think I’d end this story without a final bang? I also apologize for the terrible puns.


	18. Track 18: Bloody Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final chapter of sappy smut for those of you who have struggled to this point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna miss this story. Only two more chapters left!

**Sora**

This kiss with Riku feels like the first time I kissed him on the balcony. It’s drunken, messy, with too much feeling and too little thought. Looking back on it now, that first kiss redirected my life in more ways than I can count. 

Thank gods I moved back to the island to recover. I’m so grateful Kairi saw me in that diner that first night. I’m so glad I ran into Namine in the cave. Thank you, Demyx, for making a drink strong enough that I had the stupid courage to kiss Riku. I recall all those small moments that had to line up perfectly to lead me to Riku. I hold each memory close, vowing to never forget, and I am filled with gratefulness. 

I don’t regret a thing, but if I could pick one moment to relive, to try again, I would pick my first kiss with Riku. I wouldn’t have let him walk away from me that night. I would hold on tight to him and kiss him as ferociously as I do now, until he understood. 

Love, love, love, love hums throughout my body. 

I memorize the way his pale hair fans out across the faded blue sheets. Who knows how many more moments like this we have left. I don’t want to forget a single detail, not a sigh, not a caress, not a taste. 

He gasps underneath me and I kiss his jaw, neck, throat. I hope this secret language of ours is intricate enough to convey the depth of my devotion. I spell the words onto his skin with my tongue, writing out our story, accentuating the sentences with small bites. I sigh out every song I’ve ever written against his mouth. Riku shakes beneath me and I reach for his hands so that I can press kisses to his palms. 

Don’t be afraid, Riku. Don’t be afraid anymore. This patchwork quilt of our relationship is nearly complete. 

“Sora,” he says, voice gravelly and raw. Riku closes his eyes and I allow myself the joy of studying the rise and fall of his chest, the sculpture of his arms. What have I done to be able to be here now? What will I have to give up to keep it forever?

I would give up anything he asked. 

My fingers skim the bottom of his shirt and I feel my way up under them, capturing his mouth once more. Hands dance against the hard expanse of his abdomen, tracing peaks and valleys. I try not to smile when his breath hitches, but the joy is too much to restrain. Riku helps me remove the offensive barrier of his shirt and in the moonlight he shines like a god. 

We stare at each other, drinking in the tension. 

I reach down to peel off my own shirt and Riku’s hands quickly clasp around my wrists. 

“You don’t have to—”

I smile at him and bend down for another deep kiss. He knows everything now. He’s seen all of me, and knows my secrets. I have nothing left to hide from him, but so much more to give. I want to give him everything, my heart, my soul. I won’t need it without him anyway. 

I pull away from his mouth, much to his chagrin, to continue what I started. My shirt is discarded on the floor next to his, and I shiver at the coldness of the room. 

I straddle him bare chested again, and his hand traces up my ruined arm lightly, reverently. I press a palm to his chest to feel the bird-like flutter of his heart. Riku’s eyes trail up and down the scars, and for the first time I do not shrink away from the gaze. 

Look at me, see me, Riku. I want you to know this secret part of me that I keep hidden from the world. I want you to trace the scars and burns and love me for the ugliness of it all, just like I love you for all your flaws. 

I watch him stare at the scars and I don’t feel scared or ashamed at all. Riku’s eyes are soft and when he sits up, I can see a tenderness there I’ve not noticed before. A scarlet blush brightens his face, visible even in this near darkness. Riku’s calloused fingers hold my head between his hands and I drown in the emerald of his eyes. 

“You are beautiful,” Riku tells me. 

I laugh because it’s not true, especially not next to him, but his face is serious and unmoving, and so it stops me short. 

“Sora— I—”

I kiss away his words, wrapping my arms around his neck. He doesn’t have to try to make me feel better. Just being here is enough. 

He bends his head away, kisses my chest, and I feel him tremble against me. Riku holds my waist tightly, cheek pressed to my chest and we sit in silence. My heart beats loudly, ringing in my ears, and I hope he isn't embarrassed by the erratic beat. His cheek against my chest is so warm that the absence of it causes me to shiver when he looks back up at me. 

“I want you to know that I love you,” Riku tells me, finally. “I love you, Sora.”

I press a hand to his chest again and feel the way his heartbeat thunders back at mine. I wonder if saying it out loud feels the same way it felt to me, like dispelling a curse, like a million happy moments, like a foreign language finally translated. 

“You’re so brave,” Riku says quietly. “I can’t believe how brave you are, Sora. You listen to your heart and you take risks that I can't imagine being strong enough to do. You took a risk on me once, and I let you down. I know I have no right to ask after all that has happened, but will you take one more risk? On me?”

I blink at him, unsure how to react, eyes burning. 

“Oh, god, I thought I knew what love was, but I was so wrong,” Riku says, kissing my burned shoulder. “ _ This _ is real.  _ This _ is it. I’m not going to be afraid anymore because not telling you the truth will be more painful that not saying anything and wondering what could have been.” His mouth kisses a line from my shoulder down to my wrist, feather light and searing hot. 

“You are love songs made of flesh, tangible music. You’re every melody I’ve ever known,” Riku says. 

I've been living in this foreign land so long that to have finally found a compatriot in this vastness feels like coming home. Riku is home. The realization sits warmly in my chest. 

“I love you. Completely, utterly, and at my own undoing. I love your laugh, and your songs, and I love the way you care about everyone around you. I want to be half the man you are. I want to be by your side cheering you on from here on out. I want to kiss you every morning and hold you every night. I want every song I write to be about you. I want to sing to you every morning. I want the last word on my lips to be your name

“I love you, Sora, and I don’t have the words to explain to you just how much I mean it. You have every right to not believe me, to turn me away. 

“You are the light at the end of the tunnel I’ve been stuck in for so long. You are the chorus my life has been missing. You are my home. I love you.”

I thought I would cry when he said it. I thought I would sing him praises, write him poetry about the way his confession has given me wings. But all I can do is stare into his eyes and hope he understands. By the way his eyes glisten, I think he does. 

“I love you too,” I remind him, a smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. I feel strong, like I could slay dragons or win a duel against death. I’d do those things for him, if he asked. 

Riku pulls my face back to him and kisses me deeply, tongue parting my lips. I can still feel him shaking, so I hold on tighter. My chest feels so warm and alive with love. 

I want to make him feel the way he makes me feel. I want to tell him thank you, I love you, I’m so glad to know you. Please understand these things I don’t know how to explain, I beg him silently. Please understand that my world had no color before you. 

Shadows dance across the walls, and I notice the relics of my past collide with this fragile new future. Right now is all that really matters though. This could all be over with tomorrow and it’d still be worth it. 

We’ve finally caught up with each other and suddenly all the pain and tears are worth it. I would do it all again if I had to, even if just for a moment of what I feel right now. I would trade years of my life away if it meant I could spend the remainder with Riku. 

My hands fumble at his pants while he tugs at mine. I have to roll off of him to pull them off, and we scramble to return to each other. While I’m curled on the side of the bed, I rummage in the side drawer for the supplies I purchased after our first time together. I move as quickly as I can to sit back on top of him, eager to feel him against me, missing the warmth of his skin. 

This is the first time we’ve done this as equals, neither one of us more invested than the other. The electricity is still there, the heat of desire, but the pain of that absence of feeling once between us is nowhere to be found. I have never felt so close to another person. 

I want Riku to see himself the way I see him, beautiful, thoughtful, kind. He thinks he’s such a burden, that he’s so broken, but he’s been the one stitching me together this whole time. I want to return the favor.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” Riku tells me between kisses, hands sliding up and down my back. 

I shake my head. “Stop it,” I tell him. 

“I’m an idiot,” he says, gripping my waist firmly. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Stop talking,” I laugh, kissing his ear. When he tries to voice a protest, I clasp a hand over his mouth, kiss his throat, and smile against the vibration when he tries to speak. I can feel it when he smiles against my hand.

My whole body is tingling with the sweet buzz of his returned affection. Everything feels like static: blurry, impossible, humming. I want to disappear in the noise.

I grind back against Riku which elicits a sigh from him.

That’s one way to shut him up. 

He reaches out to hold my hips while I rock against him, our eyes never leaving one another. The hardness of his erection digs into my thigh and I shudder imaging him inside me again. I can smell the musk of his skin, the crush of his cologne. 

“Touch me,” I command him, and he is eager to comply. 

He reaches up to trail a single finger down the middle of my chest, slowly moving lower and lower until he takes my cock into his hand and begins to slowly stroke. My head falls back with a quiet sigh at his ministrations, and I roll my hips in time against him. Each time I feel the bruise of his erection against my thigh, I feel myself getting harder. 

I want to draw this out this time. We don’t need to rush, and I want to savor each moment. Luckily, Riku seems to be on the page, because he keeps at a slow, torturous pace. I don’t try to hold back my moan when he closes his fist tighter around my cock, wrist flicking. 

When I manage to open my eyes again, Riku is still staring up at me, mouth open, hungry looking. I make sure to press into him harder. He arches up against me gracefully and mutters a curse under his breath. 

“Want you,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. 

I nod back at him and rise to my knees. He continues to stroke me as I press the bottle of lubricant into the hand on my hip. 

“Are you sure, you don’t have to—”

I bend forward to silence him with a kiss. Selfishly, I hope he keeps forcing me to quiet him this way. 

He moves to slick his hand with the gel before returning to stroking me, and the new glide of his fingers is heavenly. I sit back up and lean back on my hands, allowing my head to roll back so that I can better enjoy the feel of his warm hands rubbing circles around my head. A finger toys at the slit, and a hiss of air rushes through my teeth. 

“You’re in control this time,” Riku explains. He reaches around my hips to slick himself then urges me up so that he can begin to prepare me for him. I spread myself for him, eager to begin this new ritual. 

I’m not as tense this time, knowing now what to expect, and his fingers slide inside with relative ease. He pulls out, swirls fingers around the muscle, teasing, before pressing back in. He syncs the press of his fingers to the back and forth of his hand on my cock, and the sensations are enough to make tears prick at my eyes. 

I sit back down against his fingers, wanting more. Riku is not perturbed by my writhing though, and he keeps up his slow and agonizing pace. 

“Riku…” I sigh his name. I wanted to make him feel this way, and here I am sweating and panting while he sits beneath me, completely untouched. This wasn’t my intention, but I can’t bring myself to stop him now. All words in my mind condense into a single wish:  _ more. _

“Is that okay?” Riku asks, third finger pumping in slowly. 

I bite my lip and nod. “S’good.”

He laughs and rewards me with a slightly increased tempo, which sends an electrifying thrill through me. I can’t keep my head up straight, it rolls this way and that, as I try to get a grip on myself. My head swims with images of silken sheets, sunbeams, and ripe fruit. My mouth is salivating.

I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to restrain myself from pounding into him. The idea of taking this slowly seems incredibly stupid now. I want to slam against him, fierce and fast, until he can’t remember any word save for my name. 

“Do you want more?” Riku asks. He must realize that I’m struggling to voice my needs. I’m so glad he can read me so well. 

I nod more aggressively this time, teeth digging into my lip. 

“Alright, I’m going to give you more,” he says, reaching between us to line up with my entrance. “I want you to be in control now. Take what you need.”

I feel his tip teasing against the tight ring of muscle and it takes all my willpower from dropping down all at once. 

Riku is breathing heavily, one hand still lazily jerking me off while the other rubs my hip, skin sticky with lube. 

I ease down slowly, inch by inch, and the sound of our groans blur into one deep primal growl. Riku is shivering, trying to keep himself still. His fingers dig into the flesh of my side.

He doesn’t look away from me, even as his eyelids flutter and fight to close from the pressure and heat of me around him. I remember that knee-buckling feeling of being inside him and marvel at his self-control. We keep our eyes locked as I fill myself with him, until he’s fully sheathed, and a ripple of pleasure vibrates out from the bottom of my spine. 

I’m straining to contain him, and the fullness is nearly too much. I rotate my hips and he moans loudly. He’s in so deep. The room swirls. 

It’s all so much. 

My heart is singing out for him. I’ve never felt this way before about anything, or anyone. It feels like the picture is finally complete, no longer mere lines and curves, but a riot of colors, shadows, completed scenes. 

How am I going to live without Riku after this? 

I rise back up slowly, legs shaking, and Riku trembles. When I ease back down, the sensation is too much. 

“Haah,” I cry out. 

“That’s good, baby, let it out,” Riku croons. 

I ride him slowly, gooseflesh pricking at my skin, a tightness coiling at my spine. He feels so deep, so hard, and the fullness is dizzying. My head swims. 

“Show me how you like it,” his deep voice rumbles. 

I rise and fall like a tidal wave, deep breaths and salty sweat. I’m so caught up in my own head that it takes me a moment to recognize Riku chanting my name. 

_ “Sora. Sora. Sor-a. So—r-aaa—” _

Is it narcissistic to enjoy hearing my own name this much? I love the way he stutters, the way he can hardly choke the word out. I love that it’s  _ Sora _ , not  _ Vanitas. _ I love the way Riku draws it out, more syllables, and I especially love the way it breaks his voice. 

I feel a blush creeping onto my face as I see the way he watches my body move above him, but I don’t turn away. Riku continues stroking me, and I feel the tension building inside, signaling that my end is approaching. 

“Gonna—” I start. 

“Go ahead, baby,” Riku purrs. 

Riku rubs comforting circles on my hip and finally picks up his pace. His hand glides across my sensitive skin and each pass hitches my breath. I quicken my hips to match him, and soon he is writhing below me, neck bending. His face falls to the side and his mouth opens, gasping. 

I want to feel him finish inside me, like the first time. My legs are getting tired and they shake with each squat, but the press of him is too delicious to think of stopping. 

He runs a nail along the sensitive vein under my cock and then it’s all over. I slam down with a cry and double over, bracing myself with my arms on either side of Riku. I erupt in a spray of pearlescence across Riku’s chest, his chin. I’d be more embarrassed but the aftershocks are so intense that I can’t think straight. My body convulses with the intensity. 

Riku grabs my hips to help, using strong arms to lift and lower me on top of him. Through the daze of my orgasm, his strangled cries catch my attention and I am able to bring my focus back to the man below me. 

“It’s so good, Riku,” I tell him, overstimulated to the point I’m sure I will cry. 

I just feel so  _ much. _

I will my legs to move again and I help him pump into me. Now that I’ve finished, Riku has sped up and a fine sheen of sweat glistens across his chest. I lean back and hover above his hips so that he can thrust up more easily. It doesn’t take long after that for Riku to close his eyes, brows furrowed in delight. 

“Is it okay?” He asks me, his body shaking. 

“Please,” I gasp, eager to feel his warmth again. 

He nods and thrusts up while pulling me down sharply. The effect causes my eyes to gloss over.

“I love you, Sora,” Riku cries out, back arching, legs tensing. I feel him erupt inside me and the pressure forces me to choke out a sob. 

Riku’s chest heaves, and his hands keep running up and down my chest. His eyes are unfocused and wild. I allow myself to finally collapse and he catches me in the circle of his arms. 

I never want to let him go. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” Riku says softly. 

I bury my face into his neck and take a deep breath, taking in the scent of him, of us. His voice is different now. He whispers his declarations of love quietly, like he’s afraid to stop. I kiss his shoulder and listen to his voice. 

This is my new favorite song. 

_ The simulation just went bad _

_ But you're the best I ever had _

_ Like hand prints in wet cement _

_ *He touched me it's permanent _

_ In my head, in my head _

_ I couldn't hear anything you said but _

_ In my head, in my head _

_ I'm calling you *boyfriend, what the fuck? _

_ I don't do fake love, but I'll take some from you tonight _

_ I know I've got to go but I might just miss the flight _

_ I can't stay forever, let's play pretend _

_ And treat this night like it'll happen again _

_ You’ll be my bloody valentine tonight  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Machine Gun Kelly. NGL I hate this chapter but I just can’t..... do....... better right now. Maybe I’ll come back to edit this later on when my brain juice comes back. :’)


	19. Track 19: Life Can’t Get Much Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POVs galore incoming. Song by Good Charlotte.

####  _ Life can't get much better _

_ Let's just stay together _

_ These scars are tokens of promises broken _

_ Life can't get much better _

_ Let's just stay forever _

_ We've got to hold on, we've waited so long _

* * *

####  **Kairi**

The remainder of the summer has been a whirlwind. As the daylight grows shorter so does our time together. The long, practically endless days of recording and writing, along with evenings spent planning for our departure, leave us hardly any left over time for sleeping.

It’s been getting harder and harder for me to choose sleep over Roxas these days. So I’m a little tired. Maybe the rest of the band has had better luck on the sleep front. For their sake, I hope so. 

Today is the last day in the studio. We were able to rework Sora’s newest song to fit in with the album. Every time Riku sings it, he puts so much emotion into the lyrics that it breaks my heart. The first time Sora heard it, he needed to leave the room for a while. I don’t really blame him though. It’s hard to put all those feelings out there for everyone to see. I certainly couldn’t do it. 

We are staying late today to record the very last song: song number 12. No matter what, the album has to wrap today. 

The last song is the first song Riku has finished since his breakup with Vanitas. When he first played it for us, it was a shock to the system. I had no idea Riku was even writing again. Of course the song is about Sora, I’m not surprised about that part. Rather, it is the fact Riku is _back writing_ that stuns me. It seemed like he was _gone_ for such a long time that I wasn’t sure if he’d even _come_ _back_. 

We’ve all been dragging our heels since we agreed on the last song though, being unnecessarily nit-picky about everything because we all know when it is finished things are going to change. 

What happens when you finally make your dream come true? I feel excited, scared, and, honestly, a little sad. It feels like the end of a particularly good book. The journey sure has been stressful, but it makes this ending all the more meaningful.

I look around at our motley crew assembled in the console room. Demyx and Axel laugh and play cards. They’ve been in high spirits. The two already have sublet their apartments and are completely packed for tour. They both seem eager for change. 

Axel cut his hair, shaving off an entire side, claiming it was as good a time as any to shake things up. Roxas thinks it’s hilarious— like Axel forgot to finish the haircut. They bicker back and forth about it every time they see each other now, which seems to be pretty often. I’m glad that Axel and everyone else has welcomed Roxas into the fold like he’s always been one of us. 

Sora and Riku are curled up on the couch, oblivious to the rest of the world. They hold each other in a sickeningly sweet way that makes my heart burst at the seams. They’re always touching now, never too far away, like magnets. I swear when one moves the other will mimic the movement without even trying. 

I’ve never seen Riku this way before, not even with Vanitas. He’s laughing more, smiling, and the dark circles like bruises seem to have disappeared. We spend less time together as just a pair, but Sora and Roxas get along, which makes for enjoyable double dates.

Despite the positive vibes in the room right now, I’m scared for what happens when we finally get on the plane to join Vanitas on the mainland. Sora sat us all down three weeks ago and told us he wasn’t planning on joining us on tour, so I’m afraid of the implications. Every time I try to talk to Riku about it, he deflects and turns the question around to be about me and Roxas. 

When you look up codependency in the dictionary though, it’ll show Riku and not me. He’s the one who isn’t able to function solo. I don’t know how he’s going to handle getting on that plane without Sora. 

The sound of my stomach growling brings me back to reality. I check the clock (already past dinner time) and reluctantly decide to be the bearer of bad news. “Alright, guys, it’s now or never.” 

Cards are placed on the table, eyes shift from face to face. Sora grins at Riku, who looks down uncomfortably. 

“Last song!” Demyx shouts, trying to keep the energy up. 

“Last song,” Axel agrees, high-fiving Demyx. 

“Laaast song!” I sing, voice nervous and high. 

Riku looks up at the awful sound coming out of my throat and laughs. It’s a deep and genuine sound that I haven’t heard in forever. Sora bumps into his shoulder and shoves him off the couch. Riku stands and makes his way to the rest of us standing in the middle of the room.

I hold out my hand between us and the others pile theirs on top. It's a weirdly endearing and silly moment, but I’m sure I won’t ever forget it. Years from now, when I look back to the beginning of our story, I hope that this is the moment I will think of. All of us, together, smiling and a little scared, hands in a circle, surrounded by people who love us.

* * *

####  **Axel**

We’ve never even tried to record a whole song in one go, but this seems like the right time to try. We want this song as raw as possible, flaws and all, since this song is really the core of what we are trying to capture in this album. The whole thing is a little chaotic, messy, and fun. The way it should be.

Demyx, Kairi, and I are all in the room together, only separated from Riku by a soundproofing glass between the dead rooms. There is a shared moment between all of us in silence as we take it all in.

I don’t want to seem sappy, but I think I’m going to miss this little room. This could be the last time we’re here. 

Roxas and Sora are watching from the control room, both beaming, eyes on their respective partners. It makes me roll my eyes.

It isn’t even negotiable to have Riku somewhere without Sora, so I’ve accepted him as a permanent fixture. Roxas, on the other hand, is still… new. Don’t get me wrong, I  _ like  _ Roxas. But the whole Kairi- _ and _ -Roxas situation is a little annoying. He’s just  _ always around _ now. Kairi and Roxas have gone on dates every single day since that first one I tailed. Roxas practically lives at Kairi’s place already. It’s only been a  _ month. _

I’m not about to start a lecture on moving too fast, but it’s just…  _ weird _ .

Demyx brings us all back by clapping his drum sticks together to set the beat. I feel the grin inching across my face as my fingers scurry across strings. Everything else fades into the background, replaced by the scream of electric guitar. 

* * *

####  **Roxas**

I’ve never fallen for a person as quickly as I’ve fallen for Kairi. I wasn’t sure what to think about her when she came into the diner shit-faced on a Monday night, but I’m glad I took a shot on her. 

Kairi is absolutely  _ insane _ , and I can’t get enough of it. She doesn’t back down from a fight or let anything stop her once her mind is set on something. And lucky for me, she seems to have set her mind on me for now.

She makes me really… happy. 

I know she’s leaving soon, but I think we can still make it work. I’m spending as much time with her now as I can, and hopefully the whole long-distance thing will be over quickly. 

I watch her playing her bass behind the glass and marvel at the way her body is so alert. She’s so  _ pretty _ and  _ feral _ when she plays music. She reminds me of some kind of wicked queen, the way she scowls and pouts at the melody. Beautiful and always in control. 

Almost always in control, I think smugly. 

I can feel someone looking at me, and when I glance over to the left, I catch Axel’s catlike eyes taking me in. I give him a thumbs up and he winks back. We’ve been hanging out a lot more lately. He’s pretty much always around, but I don’t mind. We actually get along pretty well. I’ve been teaching him how to skate and he’s been teaching me how to blow smoke rings. I’ll miss him when he leaves too. 

As I take in the scene, listening to their final song, it feels like I am on the precipice of some pivotal moment. Everything has been so  _ boring _ before now. This summer came in like a comet, streaking across the dull overcast sky of my life, and set my world on fire. I’m running after that comet like my life depends on it. 

I’ve never been one for chasing after something, but you couldn’t stop me now if you tried. 

* * *

####  **Namine**

Selphie has been helping us pack for Xion’s departure all week. The three of us build cardboard boxes, stack them in piles, make castles, and drink sweet wine until we’re all a little dizzy and giggly. 

When Xion first came to me with her acceptance letter to a university on the mainland, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. The letters seemed to shift and grow in my panic. 

> _ My little sister… leaving? _
> 
> _ “I’m ready to go finish my degree,” she says excitedly, practically jumping up and down.  _
> 
> _ Xion had started taking classes a few years ago but changed her mind so often about what she wanted to do that she eventually just decided to take a break. _
> 
> _ My heart sinks at her words, but also fills with pride.  _
> 
> _ I am losing both sisters at once.  _
> 
> _ “I am… so proud of you, Xion,” I tell her. “Do you know what you want to do now?” _
> 
> _ She grins. “I’m thinking… Maybe botany? I can’t seem to get myself to grow up, so I thought I might have more luck helping something else do it. Maybe that’s my thing! I’ve always loved watching you and Kairi blossom, at least.” _
> 
> _ Her sincerity makes me laugh. She’s so earnest and happy. I ruffle her hair and pull her in for a hug. “Xion, is you are happy, I am happy.” _

“Do you think we are forgetting anything?” I say, worrying over the suitcases. 

Xion pulls her short hair back into a small bun and snorts. “I can always buy stuff if I forget something. I’m not going to  _ Mars.” _

In my eyes she is always ten, all legs and gap-toothed. I have trouble remembering that she’s a woman now. It’s hard to let her grow up sometimes. It’s hard to watch her leave me. 

Who will make sure she remembers to eat when she gets sucked into her video games?

I cluck at Xion and take another lap around the room, picking up discarded bits and baubles unearthed during packing. Selphie grabs my arm when I pass her chair and she squeezes. Her green eyes are soft when I search her face. Every time she looks at me, I feel like I am sixteen. The force of her gaze makes me lose my train of thought. 

“C’mon, Nams, she’s gonna be okay. Stop worrying,” Selphie tells me lightly. 

“I know, you are right,” I say, shrugging. “It is just going to be so… empty here without Kairi and Xion.”

Xion heads back into her closet and sorts through her remaining rack of clothing, trying to make sure he hasn’t missed anything essential. She holds up two dresses, no doubt debating between the two which should make the journey to the mainland with her. She tosses the black one into a pile at her feet and hangs the white one back up. 

“Here is a thought,” Selphie says. I look down at her and she’s still smiling. “Why don’t you move in with me?”

“W-what?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard my voice come out so shrilly. 

“Well, yeah, I think it’d be fun! It’s boring to live alone, like you said!”

“And we’d be… r-roommates?”

Selphie laughs and the sound fills the room like sunlight. “That’s kind of the whole point, yeah.”

I am pretty adverse to taking risks. I haven’t known Selphie very long. It’s probably incredibly impulsive and messy to consider just moving in with her. We don’t really even know much about each other. What if she is a total slob like Kairi? What if she doesn’t recycle? This could be the end of our friendship.

Her face wavers as I hesitate to answer. She starts to laugh nervously. “N-nevermind that was--”

Panic seizes my heart as I watch her. 

After a lifetime of carefully planned out goals and milestones I’ve set for myself, I finally feel like being spontaneous for once. For whatever reason, the concept of facing the unknown with her is tantalizing. This isn’t on any of my checklists, but it’s now at the top of my agenda. 

“Yes,” I cut her off. “Yes, why not? It  _ will _ be fun.”

She squeezes both of my hands in her own. Her hands are always so soft. Something about her touch relaxes me and any doubts I have dissolve like spun sugar on the tongue.

I commit to memory the way her blush brings out the spray of freckles across her cheeks and nose so that I can paint it later. My fingers itch to reach out and discover all the colors she’s capable of showing me. I’ll paint them all. 

* * *

####  **Vanitas**

Ventus and I are sneaking through the airport, carefully trying to avoid the eyes of the masses. 

Or, well, I am. Ventus doesn’t give a shit. No one wants to look at him anyway. He’s just here to move bags and keep me on schedule. 

“Where are we going again?” I ask, yawning. The movement makes my nose hurt. 

_ Seriously-- fuck Sora.  _

Ventus sighs. “Shibuya.” He rolls his neck and I can hear it pop.  _ Gross. _

“When will the rest of them get in?”

“Sometime tomorrow evening,” Ventus says, confirming on his phone. 

I don’t know what to expect from this leg of the tour. Ansem’s decision to add Heartless into the mix has me thinking all sorts of strange things.

Touring has always been exciting, a whirlwind of cities and faces, loud music and louder parties. I’ve always been more or less alone on tour and it forces me to fill rooms with bodies just to keep the silence from getting too deafening. Having familiar faces on the road will be… interesting. 

Having Riku and the rest of the old band around will be different, no doubt. I’d never let them know it, but I do still miss playing with them sometimes. I miss  _ them _ sometimes. I miss Kairi fussing over my hair, and Axel giving her shit for it. I miss Demyx throwing pretzels at us when we fight. I miss sitting on Riku’s lap, writing songs with him. I miss that the illusion of family we were able to fake for so long. 

Fuck. When did  _ that _ happen? When did I become a sappy piece of  _ shit? _

I  _ miss  _ them? What?

Was it seeing them at the restaurant? Was it seeing the way Riku looked at Sora that day, the way Sora stood up to me? It all seems more real after the fight… that Riku has really moved on. 

My stomach hurts at the realization. I remember that last night together in my hotel on the island.

> _ “Riku, I don’t want to be like this,” I say _
> 
> _ “Then why are you doing all this?” Riku rubs a hand up and down my naked arms. His palms are so warm, calloused. Despite myself, I shiver. _
> 
> _ “I don’t know how else to protect myself,” I admit to him. _
> 
> _ “You don’t have to keep everyone at arm's length all the time. It’s not going to protect you.” _
> 
> _ “I’m too far gone. This is just me now.” Why am I telling him this anyway? It won’t make a difference. _
> 
> _ Riku pulls me to my feet with him. “Get dressed, come on.” I follow as he leads me into the couch. “Vanitas, you can always change. It’s never too late to change.” _

Was he right?  _ Can _ I change? How do I even start?

What the  _ fuck _ ? Why am I even thinking about this? People like me the way I am now… right? 

_ I _ don’t like myself very much. Probably not at all. Does it even matter?

All I can think of is the way Riku looks at me now. He’s so far away. The distance between us grows wider every day. 

It hurts to remember the way his eyes used to light up when I entered the room. He’d always sit a little straighter, he’d always smile.

I never felt lonely after I met Riku.

If I could just… get him back, I think I’d never be lonely again.

* * *

####  **Sora**

The entire car ride back to Riku’s place is lighthearted and full of jokes. The fun lasts approximately as long as it takes for Kairi and Roxas to split off to her room, and then the atmosphere shifts. As soon as the door closes to Riku’s bedroom, he starts in on me again.

“So I’ll pick you up around one AM?” Riku says slowly. His seaglass eyes are boring into me. It’s really hard to tell him no when he looks like this.

“Riku…” 

“Sora, stop being stupid. Just come with us,” he whines.

I frown at him. “Riku, I  _ can’t.  _ I can’t just leave my grandmother, or just… I can’t just up and leave.”

Riku flinches at the mention of my grandmother, but keeps on his tirade. “We can come back to check on things when we have days off between cities.”

“Have you considered the fact that I’m telling you I  _ don’t want to go _ ?”

Riku recoils as if I have slapped him.

I sigh. “I’m so proud of you, of all of you. I’m so glad your hard work is paying off and that your dream is coming true. It’s just… that isn’t  _ my dream _ . This wasn’t… what I had planned for.”

“So what’s your dream then, if not this?”

I glare at him. “Well, for one, not just skirting by on the coattails of the guy I’m sleeping with.” I don’t say  _ boyfriend _ because we haven’t actually had that conversation. The word lodges in my throat. I don’t think I can be the first to say it, especially now.

“You’re not--” he starts.

“I want to do something with my life that no one else can do,” I continue, talking over him. “I have this whole second chance,” I shrug my bad shoulder, indicating the scars, “and I need to find a way to be worthy of it. I want to… I don’t know… write, or something.”

“You  _ do _ write. Songs. For us, with us.”

“That’s not what I meant, Riku,” I groan. “I love writing for you and I love hearing you sing the songs I write, but this isn’t… my… my calling, you know?”

He crosses his arms. 

“You don’t need me to write for you anymore anyway. You’ve got your voice back,” I remind him. “I was never supposed to be a permanent fixture here. I was just… subbing in temporarily.”

“I don’t  _ want you _ to be temporary,” Riku whines. 

“I’m not  _ disappearing _ , Riku. I’m just staying here. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“What if I stay with you, then?”

My cheeks puff up as I blow out air. This is getting irritating. “You can’t stay here.”

“I don’t want to go without you,” Riku whispers.

I stand up and walk over to him, wrap my arms around his waist. When I press an ear to his chest, I hear his heart beating frantically. “You’ve got to go, this is your dream,” I tell him. “I’m not going to be the one who keeps you from that. I’d never forgive myself.”

He hugs me back and goes limp. “It's not really a dream without you though... more like a nightmare.”

I scoff. “Shut up. Stop being dramatic.”

“Stop breaking my heart,” he replies. “You promised you wouldn’t.”

I loop up at him and poke a finger to his cheek, which gets a small smile out of him.  _ What a pretty face.  _ “I won’t.”

“I don’t think I can go back to the way everything was before you.”

“Lucky for you, you aren't,” I laugh. “For better or worse, I exist now, I’m here.”

“Definitely for better,” Riku responds. “I’ll take every bit of you that I can get.”

“Even the bad parts? Like when I’m hungry and angry, or when I’m all dark and brooding?” I joke.

“I want it all. Give it all to me,” he says seriously. “I want the good and bad. All your darkness doesn’t stand a chance against me.”

“Don’t forget that. Even if I’m not around, you are stronger than you think.” 

“I don’t like thinking about that,” he says seriously. “Anyway, you’re not going anywhere, right?”

“Right. I’ll always be here when you need me.”

He kisses me and for a moment everything is how it should be.

* * *

####  **Riku**

I bring up the tour argument with Sora a few more times throughout the evening, but ultimately find all my attempts unfruitful.

I’m sure he’s just being stubborn. We’re finally  _ together _ . Why would he want to just… let things go now after everything we’ve been through this summer? 

Sora sits cross-legged on my bed, wearing one of my sweatshirts, and watches me pack. We’ve spent more time talking and getting distracted by random trinkets I find as I rearrange things than actual packing at this point. 

I peek under my bed to try to find a pair of shoes that I know should be here somewhere. As my hands skim across the floor, a piece of paper sticks to my fingers. When I pull my hand back to inspect it, I see the picture that used to be taped to my mirror. It must have been under here for a while now. 

The picture makes me feel a lot of things all at once. How many times have I seen this and how many different emotions has it wrenched out of me? My fingers trace over Vanitas’ smiling face and the expression blurs with the image of him pulling at his hair in his hotel, panicked. 

For once, despite everything else I feel staring at this photo, I no longer feel sad. Wistful, maybe. Maybe even nostalgic. But I’m not sad anymore. I’d rather remember the way we felt the day the picture was taken, young, stupid, and free, than hurt anymore. 

Sora has his phone synced to my stereo and he shuffles through songs, finally settling on something quiet.

“Hey, look at this,” I tell him, laughing. I hand over the photo and Sora looks at it curiously. 

He smirks and raises his eyebrows. “You tryin’ to tell me something?”

“Thought you might be curious.”

He looks back at the picture, holding it close to his face. “I am.” His blue eyes flash up to meet me. “You look really young in this.”

“It’s a pretty old picture,” I admit.

“Still handsome,” Sora muses.

“Debatable,” I laugh.

“Nah. Vanitas looks… not evil?”

It makes me laugh more. “He wasn’t always a total shithead.”

“Am I supposed to be jealous now? Is that what you’re going for? Make me too jealous to stay here?”

I hold a hand out and he passes the photo back. “Would that even work? No, you shouldn’t be jealous. I just… I feel like I can talk about everything without getting overwhelmed now. It’s nice to move on, is all.”

“That’s good,” Sora says quietly.

“I wouldn’t have been able to without your help.”

“I just came along at a convenient time,” Sora explains. “You did this all on your own.”

I don’t agree. “No, it was you.”

Sora groans and falls back onto the bed. “Riku, you’ve got to start giving yourself some credit.”

I shrug and toss the photo into my desk drawer. 

“I’m serious,” Sora continues. “Stop putting yourself down all the time.”

“Coming from  _ you?” _ I scoff.

“Hey, I’m working on it. You aren’t even trying.”

I consider his words. I guess I’m not the best at owning everything. It's easier to blame it all on something else, someone else. It is childish, I know, but no one has ever challenged me on it before. 

“Alright,” I admit. “I’ll try harder.”

  
He smiles at me and the sight is blinding. It pulls me back to his side and then suddenly I’m tackling him to the mattress.

“H-hey, watch it. You’re heavy!” Sora laughs.

I don’t feel heavy anymore. I feel light, happy. I want to freeze this moment. I can’t think of anything better than the sound of his laughter over the flood of music. His warm arms wrap around me. Just when I think the moment can’t get any more perfect he says--

“I really love you, Riku.”

Yeah, life can’t get better than this.

“But I need to get home,” Sora adds reluctantly. I hold him tighter as he struggles to get free of my grasp, grumble into his chest. 

“Only if you’re going home to pack,” I warn.

“Riku!”

I release him then and watch him stand. He slaps a pillow at me and laughs.

“I’m not going, Riku. But I’ll only be a phone call away.”

“That’s too far,” I whine pathetically. Sora has me fucking wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know it. 

“Guess you better hurry up and come home to me then, huh?”

“Home, is it?”

“Isn’t it? The island, I mean?”

“Wherever you happen to be at the time,” I confirm.

“God, you’re so  _ lame _ , Riku. Why do I even  _ like _ you?”

I throw the pillow back at him and he spins around, dodging it. “You love me, remember?”

“So much,” Sora says, rushing out the door before I can pelt him with another pillow.

“Wait!” I say quickly, before he can leave.

He pauses and spins to face me. 

I crash into him and hold him tightly. “You can’t just leave like that.”

He chuckles. “Like what?”

“Without a kiss goodbye,” I say, bending down to hover my lips just above his. He stands up on his toes to close the gap and laughs into the kiss.

“I’ll see you off at the airport in the morning, okay?” 

I frown as he steps back. “I’ll meet you at the airport after you finish packing to c _ ome with me. _ ”

Sora’s hands raise up in defeat and he shakes his head. “Riku,” he chides.

“Fine,” I relent, pulling him back for one more kiss. The song playing from my stereo switches to something louder.

The thought of leaving the island without him is terrifying, but maybe Sora is right. Maybe I do need to give myself a little more credit. I never thought I’d be able to get over Vanitas, and look at me now. Whenever I’m with Sora the possibilities seem pretty endless. When I’m without him, though,  _ time  _ seems pretty endless. The tour is going to last an eternity if he isn’t there. 

What’s the point of this big wide future if Sora isn’t next to me? He’s got me questioning the rest of my life for the first time ever. 

I never hesitate when someone asks me where I will be in ten years. The answer is always the same-- on the stage, performing for a crowd. The picture I’m seeing is getting a little blurry now though. Each time I imagine the crowd it’s only one face I’m actually looking for, only one person I’m singing to. 

Sora. 

When he leaves, the music stops. 

  
  


_ Tell me that you meant every word you said _

_ In the text you sent I was going to bed _

_ The *boy with the blue eyes _

_ With the blue eyes _

_ It ain't right, it was fucking' with me last night _

_ Life can’t get much better _

_ Let's just stay together _

_ These scars are tokens of promises broken _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frick guys.


	20. Track 20: The End of All Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

###  **for the last of the real ones**

@death-scout

@floppy_fish1

@quinoachaos

@safelycapricious

@snowflake-of-destruction

@sunshinesoraa

@V4-Venus

and you 

* * *

**The End of All Things**

_Whether near or far_

_I am always yours_

_Any change in time_

_We are young again_

_Lay us down_

_We're in love_

_We're in love_

* * *

**Sora**

Endings are hard. Sometimes impossible.

Stories begin all the time, whether or not you want them to. Another story is starting right now, I’m sure. I’m just not sure that I am completely ready for the current fairy tale to be over. 

I should be happy. I slayed the dragon, the prince is mine, and my adventure is just beginning… and yet, selfishly, I keep hoping that the flight gets delayed so that the epilogue is postponed. I’m not quite ready for this final page turn. 

I wonder how Riku feels about all of this. 

After some skillful negotiation (and strategically placed kisses) I managed to convince Riku to let me just meet him at the airport rather than have him pick me up. I was afraid if he drove us that he’d refuse to get out of the car until I agreed to go with him. 

Instead I am jammed into Namine’s car with Xion, Selphie, and Roxas. We’re what's left behind after you take out our common ties. It’s a new dynamic, to be sure, but not without its own charms. Xion, seated between Roxas and I in the back seat, talks excitedly over the demure songs playing on Namine’s classical music station. She tells us about her upcoming move to the mainland for school and how she can’t wait to see the big cities. Roxas is an expert at keeping the conversation flowing, always asking thoughtful questions, encouraging her to talk to her heart’s content, so I don’t have to say much. 

  
As long as we keep talking about this, we don’t have to talk about anything else. I keep hoping if I wish hard enough that the inevitable will be delayed. Uncertainty and anxiety sit like stones in my stomach. 

Namine and Selphie sit in the front of the van. Selphie looks back occasionally to laugh or exclaim over something Xion says, but Namine remains uncharacteristically stoic. I think she’s taking her twin’s departure harder than she wants to let on. They’ve never been separated before, after all. It must be weird to grow up so closely with someone like that and then suddenly… have them leave. I make a mental note to check in with Namine tomorrow. 

The drive itself isn’t long. The island isn’t that huge, after all. The airport is a small, unglamorous kind of place, where most of the planes only hold maybe ten people. There are hardly any direct flights out, and I know that the band will have to change planes at least once on their journey this morning. 

We arrive, Namine parks the car, and we all exit into the foggy humidity of morning. The world is strangely quiet, save for the distant roar of jet engines, which fade into a sort of white noise. I pull up the hood to Riku’s sweatshirt and take a deep breath. It still smells like him. 

Xion walks ahead, nonplussed. The rest of us hang back, shuffling forward slowly. Roxas checks his phone constantly, tapping in texts to (I assume) Kairi, and sighs at regular intervals. Behind me I can hear sniffling coming from Namine. 

The inside of the airport is blinding. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of it all. The air inside is cool and dry. My skin feels strangely tight.

There isn’t much to the inside. A few check-in lines and kiosks make up most of the first floor. There is a waiting room to the left that hugs around an escalator that leads to security on the second floor. I take a deep breath. That’s where they’re all going to disappear from us. 

Axel, Demyx, Kairi, and Riku are all together in the waiting area. They must have checked their bags already because they only have a few small items, backpacks, purses, a pillow, with them now. 

Namine immediately runs into Kairi’s open arms and her crying causes her whole body to shake. Roxas comes up behind her and Kairi stretches out a hand for him to hold. She’s smiling through her own tears and Roxas says something to them both that makes them laugh. Selphie stands to the side smiling, her hands clasped in front of her as she watches the scene. 

Xion has moved to tease Axel, and Demyx helps her. The two of them appear to be engaged in some kind of tickle fight which boggles my mind. I had no idea they were close. 

I’m hesitating looking away because I know when I do I’m going to see Riku and I’m not ready. I thought by now I would have words, something, _anything._ But there is only a ringing in my ears and— god the room is so _bright._

“Sora?” I hear the familiar voice call out. 

I turn to look at him. He’s beautiful and untouchable again, a god among mere mortals. His hair falls loose around his shoulders, wild and slightly damp still from a shower. He drops his backpack to the ground and opens his arms. 

My feet are running toward him before I think to move. As soon as I’m close enough I’m flying up into his arms, wrapping my arms and legs tightly around him. He staggers back at the assault but carries me with hardly any effort. I bury my face into the crook of his neck and inhale that deliciously _Riku_ scent of him. I hope that I don’t forget any of the details while he is away. 

“Hey there,” Riku says quietly into my ear. His voice is a little raw, like he’s been awake too long. 

“Hi,” I squeak out, squeezing tighter. 

“You’re really not coming, are you?” His voice wavers at the question and I feel his body tense. 

I can’t say it. If I say it I’ll start crying and if I start crying I’ll never stop. I shake my head against his neck and blink back the tears. At least I don’t have to look at him while I do this. 

“I can stay,” he pleads suddenly. 

I pull back and look at him. It’s strange to be seeing eye to eye like this. I press my forehead against Riku’s and shake my head again. My voice is gone, I can tell. It feels like I’ve swallowed glass. 

Riku’s eyelashes flutter against my cheeks as he blinks. His fingers dig into the material of my shirt. 

“You’re making it really hard to go, you know?” he laughs. The sound is broken and choked. It doesn’t sound right. 

I nod, biting my lip to keep it from quivering. He lowers me gently to the ground and my legs feel wobbly and strange. Riku runs fingers through the sides of my hair and brushes back my bangs, studying me curiously. I try to map out the symmetry of his face, the way his eyes are precisely my favorite color. 

“I love you,” he says, smiling. I love the way he says it so freely now. I love the way it sounds rolling off his tongue. 

I still can’t find the words so I pull him down for a kiss and he tastes like sugar and tears. I will miss his mouth for a lot of reasons, but this is one of the bigger ones. 

Around us I can feel the group shifting around, partners changing for new hugs, jokes being cracked. I need to say goodbye to everyone else but I just can’t do it. I can’t look away from Riku. I hope they’ll forgive me for that. 

“I’ll… call you when we land, okay?” 

Again, I nod. 

This isn’t fair to Riku. He’s probably expecting some kind of speech from me, some kind of reassurance that everything will be fine and that this isn’t actually a big deal. Or maybe that’s just me projecting. 

I close my eyes and a million little moments seem to rush behind my eyelids, like a supercut of our summer. 

Electric blue ice-cream and winning popsicle sticks. Ocean waves, salty air, beat up shoes. Wailing guitars, beat of drums. Red cups and spilled liquor. Stolen kisses, sweaty skin. Bloody lips, record players, hands pressed tight like a prayer. Tears and sex and, oh, oh, oh _love._

The memories swallow me up, leave me gasping for air. 

“Love you,” I finally manage to say quietly. I smile at him, but it feels fake and strained. 

Riku wraps his arms around me one last time, presses a kiss to the top of my head, before he grabs his bag and turns away. He heads toward the escalator quickly, head down. I watch him as he rises up. 

Please don’t look back, I beg him in my mind. Please don’t see how much this is hurting me. I want you to have a better memory to hold you over until next time. 

Think of me in your room, leaning against your shoulder while we share headphones and sing. Remember the way I looked that day on the beach when I kissed you for real. Picture us together in my room, two halves made whole for one glorious moment in time. 

Don’t look back and see me crumbling. You deserve better than that. 

When he steps off at the top, before he heads into the next room, he starts to turn. 

I can’t look at him again. 

I whirl around and shove past the rest of our group. In the blur of bodies and colors, I catch worried faces, bloodshot eyes. I walk quickly away from the waiting area in the direction we came from, retreating to a bathroom. 

I make it inside a stall before I can’t hold it back anymore. I clamp a hand over my mouth and cry, letting hot teardrops cascade down my face like a waterfall. A sad, pathetic sob chokes me, and the sound echoes around the room, a mocking taunt. 

It’s not goodbye, it’s just see you later, I try to remind myself. Get yourself together, Sora. It’s only for a little while. 

We can make it work. That doesn’t make it hurt any less though. And, shit, it hurts right now. 

###

I don’t remember leaving the airport. I don’t remember the car ride home or what anyone said to me. I remember Namine sitting next to me in the back, her head on my shoulder, only because I remember the way she tends to loop her arm around mine. The pressure of her embrace kept me rooted in my seat, despite my fidgety legs wanting to run, run, run away. Around us the skies opened up in a downpour, as if even the earth were ready to share my sadness. 

How does something like our summer end? If you had asked me at the beginning of May, this was not what I would have answered-- me hiding in my room like a coward, phone dead (purposefully), and a pillow pressed to my chest. 

I think I will fall apart if I try to move.

I curl up tighter into a ball on my bed, staring at the red numbers on my clock. The plane is set to take off at 2, so only an hour or so to go. If I can just get past their takeoff time… I think I’ll be safe. 

I’ll keep the memory of Riku from last night close to me while he’s gone. We’ll be able to talk over the phone, video chat occasionally. It’s not like he’s disappearing forever. 

Downstairs, Goofy barks and scratches at the front door. It’s unlike him to make a scene like this, so I force myself out of bed, bleary-eyed and head pounding. 

The door is so old that it doesn’t have a peep-through and it’s too dark to see through the window, so I open the door to see what has gotten Goofy riled up. 

It’s like a scene from a movie really, the way Riku stands on the doorstep, soaking wet, hair plastered to his face, eyes wide and frantic. His shirt clings to his chest like some cliche romance novel hero.

“W-what are you _doing, Riku?”_ I gasp. I scrub at my eyes, unsure that he’s really there. 

His hands reach out, to touch my face, they’re cold and wet and shaking. 

Goofy whines at our feet, walking in circles until he lays down with a sigh. 

“I can’t go without you,” Riku says, voice booming over the onslaught of rain. “Sora it’s not worth it if you’re not there.”

“Riku, _stop it!”_ I shout, knocking his hands away. My body vibrates. Adrenaline pumps through me. I feel very, very far away from myself. 

“What’s wrong?” he dares back. 

“I’m not letting you give up everything you’ve worked for for me. I don’t _want you to!”_

“It’s my decision to make,” Riku yells. He takes another step toward me and I dance out of his reach. 

Oh, god. 

Oh, god. 

Oh, _fuck_.

It all comes to me with a sickening clarity then, what I’m going to have to do. What I have to do. 

“S-stop it, Riku,” my voice comes out of my body in a strange, cool way. I almost feel like I’m a puppet, like I’m not making any of these actions or decisions at all. What fucked up puppeteer is pulling my strings so cruelly?

I watch the way I spin around, pull at my hair, and steel myself. 

If I’m going to do it, I’ve got to make it convincing. 

“Riku, leave.” I shout. There is thunder rumbling somewhere far off. I force myself to look into Riku’s eyes as I dive the dagger deep. “I don’t want to go with you. Don’t you get it? I want out.” 

I wave my arms to emphasize my discomfort. 

“Why couldn’t you just let it go? Why did you have to come back and make things so _messy_. I thought we were on the same page,” I continue, lying. 

“Sora, what’re you talking about? You don’t mean-“

“Yeah, I think I do, _Riku._ Just how much did you think I was going to put up with? You slept with Vanitas less than 24 hours after you slept with me. You strung me along after you this entire summer. I’m done with it. I’m _over_ it.”

Riku is a sheet of white as he considers my words. He fumbles for a response, trying to argue, but nothing really sticks. 

I step back, taking one last look at his face. I just need to hold back the tears a little while longer. I just need to keep this up for a few more minutes. 

“Get back on the plane, Riku. Go back. Go away.”

My hand reaches for the door between us. His hands flash out to stop the movement but I press firm against him. Until the last moment I watch his face in the rain, breaking, shattering, completely and totally annihilated. 

When I shut the door, a cursed, terribly leaden thing, and I lean heavily against the wood. My hand shakes on the handle. I hear Riku knocking on the other side. His voice is muffled, cracked, and he calls out my name.

Don’t do it, Sora. Don’t give up now. You have to be strong. Don’t let Riku make this stupid decision. Love him enough to let him go. 

I hear a strangled cry and the sound nearly breaks me. As the minutes go on, the pounding against the door dissolves into silence. 

My heart leaps. Suddenly I am myself again and the finalization of the moment strikes like a hot poker stick down my throat. 

Mistake, mistake, mistake. 

I relent, eyes burning, and open the door, but Riku is gone. He’s walked far enough away that he can’t hear me say, 

“Don’t go.”

I hesitate, feet wanting to run after him, but manage to swallow my selfishness down. I can’t ask Riku to stay here with me, I can’t let him give up his dream for me. 

It’s better this way, I tell myself. End it simply, don’t drag it out. Clean cuts heal faster. 

Simple. And clean. 

###

Nothing will ever be like before, and for that I am so thankful. When I came here, after the accident, I was so self-absorbed and sad. Everything was another excuse to hide away my body, words, and voice. Now, I’m ready for a different way of life. I’m going to use what time I have left to make things I love and meet new people who will continue to change my life. 

I’m going to write it all down, just like I always do. I’m in charge of the narrative, the direction. I know that now. 

Sometimes a story is about first love, true love. It can be about princes or evil sorcerers, the downside of fame, or the lust for power or glory. Sometimes it’s just about the boy you don’t chase, the one who gets away. 

I don’t know how this will read back in a few years. Maybe we’ll meet again, maybe we’ll get it right next time. It could be that this next chapter will be the sweetest yet. 

Still… endings are always a bitch. 

_In these coming years_

_Many things will change_

_But the way I feel_

_Will remain the same_

_Lay us down_

_We're in love_

_We're in love_

**Disc 1 End.**

**Play again?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final song by P!ATD.  
> Find me on tumblr @borndeaddd
> 
> I’m afraid if I let myself start typing out all the things I’m feeling that I’ll never push post, so I will keep this short.
> 
> Thank you if you’ve read this far. Thank you if you’ve drawn art for this story. Thank you for the kudos and comments and friendship. Thank you for the messages of encouragement and cheerleading behind the scenes. If it weren’t for you, I would have stopped writing this a long time ago.
> 
> See you in Disc 2.


End file.
